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7 



Copyright, 1885, 
by Harper & Brothers 


November 20 , 1885 


Subscription Price 
per Year, 52 Numbers, $15 


Extra Entered at the Post-Office at New York, as Second-class Mail Matter 


THE 


WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES 


BY 


PROFESSOR C. WITT - 


HEAD MASTER OF THE ALTSTADT GYMNASIUM, KONIGSBERG 




TRANSLATED BY 


o N0V 19 1835 ' 

v ,*• 


FRANCES YOUNGHUSBAND 




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Dr. Johnson 


NEW YORK 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS 

1885 


HARPER’S HANDY SERIES. 

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/ 




ULYSSES AND THE SIRENS 



TRANSLATOR’S NOTE 


The kind reception afforded to the ‘ Myths of Hellas ’ 
and ‘ The Trojan War ’ has led to the translation of 
the present volume ( the last of those written by Pro- 
fessor Witt) in the hope that, like its predecessors, it 
may not only be welcomed as a story, but may also 
find its use as a holiday task, and even as a regular 
reading and lesson book. 

In accordance with the suggestion of several re- 
viewers, an attempt has been made, in the Index, to 
indicate the ordinary English pronunciation of the 
names, by printing with a capital letter the vowel of 
the syllable on which the chief accent should fall. The 
further question as to whether the vowel itself is to be 
pronounced fully is answered by the long (-) or short 
( w ) accent placed over it. 

This plan has been adopted as the most convenient 
for those to whom the names are entirely unfamiliar. 
Should the book fall into the hands of classical readers, 
the translator must ask their indulgence for the liberty 
thus taken with the Greek words. 


iv PREFACE. 

Some further explanation with regard to the diph- 
thongs may also be useful. When two vowels occur 
side by side, and are pronounced together , they form a 
diphthong ; and this double vowel is always long . The 
diphthongs are ae , an , ei, eu , oe, oi , o%, which in 
English are pronounced respectively as e , or, it, e, 
oi 9 ow. It sometimes happens, however, that two 
vowels which stand side by side do not form a diph- 
thong, but divide themselves into two distinct syllables. 
This is always indicated by a diaeresis ( •• ) placed upon 
the second of the two vowels, to show that it is to be 
pronounced separately, as, for instance, in Menelaiis, 
Noemon, Antinoiis. 

The head of Homer on the opening page is copied 
from a bust now in the British Museum. 

The frontispiece, which is copied from a Greek 
vase, also in the British Museum, represents 6 Ulysses 
and the Sirens.’ In the opinion of Mr. Cecil Smith, 
a double action is portrayed in this vase painting. It 
is said that one of the Sirens, overcome with grief at 
having failed to allure Ulysses, threw herself into the 
sea and perished ; and it is supposed that this action 
is here depicted, as well as that of the previous 
moment, when the ship of Ulysses — with the hero 
himself bound to the mast — passes by in safety. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 



III. 


IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 


The Ciconians and the Lotus-eaters . . 

The Greeks in the Cave op the Cyclops . . 
Ulysses Escapes from the Cyclops . 

The Island of Aeolus and the Laestrygonians 

The Enchantress Circe 

Ulysses and Circe 

The Land of the ' Dead— Ulysses meets his 
Mother, Elpenor, and Tirestas , 

The Land of the Dead { continued )— Ajax, 

Achilles, and Agamemnon 

The Sirens 

SCYLLA AND ChARYBDIS 


XL The Cattle of Helios . 

XII. The Island of Calypso 

XIII. Penelope and her Suitors . 

XIV. Telemachus and his Guest 


XV. Telemachus assembles the Citizens . 


XVI. 

XVII. 
XVIII. 

XIX. 


XX. 


XXI. 

XXII. 


XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 


The Departure of Telemachus 

The Feast at Pylos 

The Sacrifice to Athene 

Telemachus is received by Menelaus and 

Helen 

Menelaus gives Telemachus tidings of his 

Father 

The Plot of the Suitors 

Ulysses leaves the Island of Calypso . . . 

Ulysses reaches the Land of the Pheacians 

Nausicaa 

The Palace of Alcinous 


PAGE 

1 

5 

II 

19 

24 

29 

35 

41 

46 

50 

52 

58 

61 

64 

70 

75 

78 

84 

88 

93 

98 

103 

107 

112 

117 


CHAPTER 

XXYI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII 

y xxxiv. 

XXXV. 

XXXVI 

XXXVII. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 

XLI. 

XLII. 

XLIIL 

XLIV. 

XLV. 

XLVI. 
XL VII. 
XLVIII. 
XLIX. 
L. 



LIII. 

LIV. 


CONTENTS. 

The Piieacian Games 

Ulysses relates his Adventures to the 

Pheacians 

Ulysses is conveyed to Ithaca by the 

Pheacians 

Athene warns Ulysses against the Suitors 

The Swineherd Eumaeus 

Ulysses relates a Feigned Story to the 

Swineherd 

Menelaus speeds his Departing Guest 
Eumaeus relates his Past History . 

The Meeting op Ulysses and Telemachus 
The Suitors make a New Conspiracy . . 
Ulysses comes to the Palace and is 
recognised by the Hound Argus . . . 

Ulysses among the Suitors . 

The Beggar Irus 

Evening in the PaLace 

Penelope converses with the Stranger . 
The Boar-hunt on Mount Parnassus . 
Ulysses is recognised by Eurycleia . . 
The Herdsman Philoetius . 

The Warning of the Soothsayer . . . 

Ulysses makes himself known to Eumaeus 
and Philoetius . . 

The Bow of Ulysses 

Ulysses makes trial of the BOw . . . 

The Slaughter of the Suitors begins 
The Punishment of Melanthius . . . 

The Destruction of the Suitors . 
Eurycleia carries the Good News to 

Penelope - 

Ulysses and Penelope 

Ulysses and Laertes 

The Final Struggle 


TAGE 

121 

128 

132 

136 

140 

144 

151 

154 

158 

163 

166 

171 

175 

179 

183 

186 

188 

191 

195 

199 

201 

205 

209 

212 

214 

220 

223 

227 

233 


INDEX 


237 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE CICONIANS AND THE LOTUS-EATERS. 

The long war against Troy had at last come to an end, 
and the Greek heroes were now preparing to return to 
their homes. 

To no one did this thought bring greater pleasure 
than to Ulysses, the King of Ithaca, for though at the 
call of Agamemnon he had brought twelve ships to join 
the army of the Greeks, and had distinguished himself 
throughout the war as one of the bravest of the heroes, 
he had longed many a time that the siege would come to 
an end, and leave him free to return to his own country. 
He loved dearly his stony little island of Ithaca, and 
would not have exchanged it for the most fertile 
country; and he now rejoiced with all his heart at the 
prospect of being soon restored to his wife Penelope, 
and his son Telemachus, who had been but a child 
when he left home. 

The ships, which had so long been left standing 
high and dry upon the shore, had now their prows 
turned towards Greece ; and when Ulysses had prayed, 


2 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


and offered sacrifices to the gods, he set sail with hi3 
followers, hoping for a swift and prosperous journey. 

After some days, Ulysses and his men came to the 
land of the Ciconians, who had taken the part of Troy 
in the war, and fought against the Greeks. They made 
a sudden attack upon the city, and the surprised in- 
habitants fled from it, leaving behind all their goods. 
Of these the Greeks took possession, and then returned 
to their ships. 

Ulysses was of opinion that it would be best, after 
this, to proceed without delay ; but his companions were 
unwilling to leave until they had made a great feast 
on the shore, and he yielded to their wish. Sheep and 
cattle were slain and roasted, and great jars of wine 
opened ; and after they had revelled till far into the 
night, they lay down near the ships and went to sleep. 

But meanwhile the Ciconians had summoned their 
neighbours to come and help them, and scarcely had 
the morning dawned when the sleeping Greeks were 
awakened by the clash of weapons and the approach of 
a great army. They sprang up quickly and made a 
brave resistance, though they were far outnumbered 
by their enemies, — Ulysses fighting always in the fore- 
most rank. Till mid-day neither side could be said to 
have gained any advantage, but as evening approached, 
the Greeks found it impossible to hold their ground, 
and at last they turned and fled in confusion to their 
ships, leaving behind them the corpses of their com- 
rades. 

Seventy of their number had fallen, and as it was 
impossible to pay them the last funeral honours, Ulysses 
caused a herald to cry aloud the name of each one 


THE CICONIANS AND THE LOTUS-EATERS. 


3 


three times following. This was all that could be 
done, for they were obliged to hasten away from the land 
of the Ciconians, and continue their voyage with all 
speed . 1 * * * * 

They had not proceeded far, when for the first time 
they saw the mountains of Greece in the distance be- 
fore them, and hoped within a few days to be at home 
again. But their happiness was short-lived, for there 
came a storm which lasted for nine days, and drove 
them about first in one direction and then in . another, 
till on the tenth day they came to some land where 
they resolved to stop and rest. 

Ulysses sent forward some of his men to discover 
what sort of people the inhabitants were, and report 
whether they would be likely to receive them kindly ; 
but when a long time had passed by and they did 
not return, he feared they had met with some misad- 
venture, and resolved to go himself to see what had 
become of them. 

He found them, however, well and happy, and 
apparently quite at home already among the people 
of the country. As soon as they saw him they hastened 
towards him, holding out some of the fruit that hung 
in quantities on the trees, and said, 6 Eat, Ulysses, and 
thou wilt no longer have any desire to return to thy 
home. Nowhere is life so pleasant as in this land.’ 

1 The Greeks believed that the souls of those whose bodies re- 
mained unburied had no rest in the Lower World, and the burial of 
the dead was therefore a sacred duty. In extreme cases, however, 

it was considered sufficient to sprinkle a little dust over the corpse 

and pour out libations to the gods (see Myths of Hellas , p. 222), or, 

if even that was impossible, to call aloud three times the names of 

the departed. 

1 * 


4 


THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 


It was the country of the Lotus-eaters, and the 
fruit was the magic lotus, which has such power over 
the hearts of men that when once they have tasted it 
they forget everything else. Ulysses was obliged to 
bring his companions back by force, and when they 
were again in the ship, he bound them with cords to 
the rowing- seats, or they would have returned without 
delay. He then ordered the ships to be put out to sea 
again immediately, that the rest might not also be 
tempted. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE GREEKS IN THE CAVE OF THE CYCLOPS. 

After sailing for some days, they arrived, late one 
evening, at an island, where they landed and lay down 
to sleep on the shore. In the morning they found 
that the island to which they had come was a very 
small one, close to another that was larger. Having 
ascended a hill from which they could overlook the 
country, they saw no trace of human habitation on the 
smaller island, but rich grass and corn land all around 
them, and great numbers of wild goats. Spears and 
bows were accordingly fetched from their ships, and 
having divided themselves into three hunting-parties, 
they brought back such a rich booty that nine of the 
goats they had killed were placed in each of the twelve 
ships, and ten were reserved for Ulysses. They were 
thus in no danger of starving for the present, and they 
feasted merrily on the goat’s flesh and the red wine 
which they had taken from the Ciconians. 

On the following day, Ulysses said that he would 
sail with the men who belonged to his own ship to the 
larger island, to see what sort of people they were who 
lived there — whether wicked and barbarous, or friendly, 
and such as feared the gods. He had seen smoke 
rising in many places and had heard the bleatings of 


6 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


sheep and goats, so that he knew the island must be 
inhabited. 

They set out therefore, but if Ulysses had known 
whose guest he was going to be, he would certainly 
have remained away. It was the island of the Cyclops, 
a race of savage one-eyed giants, who did not even 
keep up friendly intercourse among themselves, but 
lived apart, each with his wife and children, and his 
cattle, which he led out each day to pasture. Foolish 
indeed it would be for any stranger to expect a welcome 
in such a country as this. 

Ulysses landed in a creek of the island, and chose 
out the twelve bravest of his men to go forward with 
him ; and as a present to his host, whoever he should 
be, he carried on his shoulder a skin of his best wine. 
It had been given to him in the country of the Cico- 
nians by a priest of Apollo whom he had spared with 
his wife and child when the city was sacked, and was 
so strong that even if it were mixed with twenty times 
its own quantity of water, the odour of the wine could 
be perceived from afar. 

They pressed on into the country till they came 
to a cavern with an entrance of enormous height ; 
laurel-bushes grew all around, and outside the cavern 
were enclosures for housing cattle at night. Inside, 
the appearance of the cave was hospitable and pleasant 
enough. Countless cheeses lay spread out on trays of 
net-work, and a number of pails and bowls stood side 
by side in rows, full of rich new milk; there were 
moreover a great many partitions in which lambs and 
kids were penned, who were calling and bleating to 
one another. 


THE GREEKS IN THE CAVE OF THE CYCLOPS. 7 

The men did not, however, feel secure in the place, 
and they begged Ulysses to let them take some of the 
cheeses and lambs and return at once to the ship. 
But Ulysses was unwilling to forego the stranger’s 
present which he expected to receive from the owner 
of the cave if he asked for hospitality ; so they decided 
to remain where they were, and meanwhile regaled 
themselves upon the milk and cheeses. 

Little did the Greeks think who was the host they 
were awaiting so peacefully. The cave they had en- 
tered was the abode of the Cyclops Polyphemus, the 
most savage and cruel of them all. He was now away 
at the pasture with his flocks, but towards evening he 
began to return home, driving them in front of him. 
The Greeks heard him calling to them, and at the 
sound of his terrible voice they sprang up and crept 
into* the darkest corner of the cave ; they would gladly 
have left, but it was too late for that now. 

After the rams and he-goats had been stalled in 
the pens outside, and the she-goats and ewes had been 
driven into the cave, the giant himself entered, re- 
vealing to the Greeks, as he stood in the doorway, his 
monstrous form, which appeared all the more terrible 
on account of the wild fierce locks of his shaggy beard 
and the one huge eye in the middle of his forehead. He 
brought in on his back a great bundle of firewood with 
which to cook his evening meal, and threw it on the 
ground with a crash. Then, without the smallest 
effort, he took up an immense piece of rock, so large 
that it would have taken more than twenty waggons to 
carry it, and set it up before the entrance of the cave, 
that no one should come in and disturb his night’s 


8 THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 

rest. After this he sat down and milked the cows and 
the goats, setting aside one half of the milk for drink- 
ing and the other half for making into cheeses. 

When he had finished his work he kindled a fire, 
and presently by the light of the flames discovered his 
unexpected visitors. 4 Oh ho ! ’ said he, as a grim 
smile of pleasure overspread his face. 4 So there are 
guests in my house to-day ! Who then are ye ? and 
whence do ye come ? for merchandise ? or are ye 
robbers whose trade it is to gain by plundering 
others?’ 

At the sound of his dreadful voice the Greeks 
trembled, but Ulysses answered, 4 We come from Troy 
and desire to return to our home, but have lost our 
way in the storm. We belong to the army of King 
Agamemnon, whose fame is in the mouths of all men, 
because he has destroyed so great a city and so many 
peoples. Give us therefore a stranger’s present, or at 
the least some small token of good-will, as is the custom 
between host and guest. Remember the gods, and 
bethink thee how Zeus punishes those who refuse to 
welcome strangers.’ 

At hearing these words, the giant laughed until the 
rocks resounded with his mirth, and he said, 4 Either 
thou hast but little wit, stranger, or else thou comest 
indeed from far, who demandest of me that I should 
honour the gods. We Cyclops trouble ourselves but 
little about Zeus and the rest, for we are far better 
than they. Think not then that fear of Zeus will in- 
duce me to spare thee and thy companions if I do it not 
of my own free will. But tell me, where hast thou left 
thy ship ? ’ 


THE GREEKS IN THE CAVE OF THE CYCLOPS. 9 

The foolish giant thought that Ulysses would be so 
simple as not to guess that his reason for wanting to 
know this was that he might get the whole crew into 
his power, but Ulysses was too crafty for him, and he 
answered, ‘ Our ship has been dashed to pieces by 
Poseidon, and only we whom thou seest have escaped 
with our lives.’ 

The giant said no more, but springing up suddenly, 
he seized one of the strangers with each hand, and 
dashed their heads against the rocky floor ; then he sat 
down and began to tear them limb from limb ; after 
which, like a hungry lion, he devoured them, skin and 
flesh and bones, refreshing himself at the same time with 
huge draughts of milk, and grinning in the most 
horrible manner. The Greeks were forced to look on 
helplessly at this ghastly sight, but holding up their 
hands to Zeus, they silently called upon him to witness 
and to punish the impious deed. 

When the giant had finished his meal, he stretched 
himself out among the animals, and the sound of his 
heavy slumber soon echoed through the cave. To the 
eyes of the Greeks, however, came no sleep. Ulysses 
spent the whole night in trying to think of some way 
of escape, but in vain: — he could indeed thrust his 
sword into the heart of the monster as he lay asleep, 
but that would be of no use, for how could any one less 
powerful than the giant roll away the huge stone from 
the mouth of the cavern ? 

When the morning came, the giant attended to 
his cattle as he had done the evening before, and 
again he seized two Greeks and devoured them for 
his breakfast. After that he lifted away the stone and 


10 


THE WANDEKINGS OF ULYSSES. 


drove out the sheep and goats. He then replaced the 
stone from without, and went away with the cattle. 
The Greeks could hear his voice calling to them 
for a long time before it finally died away in the 
distance. 


CHAPTER III. 


ULYSSES ESCAPES FROM THE CYCLOPS. 

Ulysses now remembered how often the wise goddess 
Athene had come to his aid by putting into his mind 
some subtle device, and he offered up a prayer, im- 
ploring her to help him in this time of need. Presently 
the answer was given, and he exclaimed aloud with joy 
that an idea had come to him. He at once set to work 
to carry it out, and finding in the cave an olive tree as 
tall and strong as a ship’s mast, which the Cyclops had 
brought in some time before to use as a club, he cut a 
piece off it from the thin end, about the height of a 
man. His men helped him to peel off the bark, and 
sharpen one end to a point ; he then put it into the 
fire, and when it was red-hot, he took it out and put it 
away, ready for use. With this pole he intended to put 
out the eye of his cruel host, and as he would require 
the help of four of his men, he told them to draw lots 
to see which of them should have the honour of taking 
part in the deed ; happily the lots fell to the very men 
that Ulysses would himself have chosen for the purpose. 

At night the Cyclops returned with his flocks, and 
contrary to his usual custom he drove the rams and he- 
goats into the cave, as well as the ewes and she-goats. 
Otherwise everything happened as on the previous 


12 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


evening : the sheep and goats were milked, the fire was 
kindled, and two more of the Greeks were devoured. 

Then Ulysses stepped forward, holding towards the 
giant a huge wooden bowl which he had filled with 
wine from his skin. 4 Here, Cyclops,’ said he, 4 drink 
this wine after thy meal of human flesh. I brought it 
with me as a present for thee, hoping that thou wouldst 
have pity on us and help us to return to our home. 
But thou hast bitterly disappointed our hopes. Foolish 
man that thou art, will anyone again bring thee such a 
gift, when it is known how thou hast treated us ? * 

The giant seized the bowl, and his monstrous face 
beamed with pleasure as he drank it off and smacked 
his lips after the draught. 4 Friend,’ he said, 4 give 
me more, and tell me thy name, and I will give thee 
something in return that will rejoice thy heart. 
Among us Cyclops the vine indeed grows, but not 
such as makes wine like this. This tastes verily like 
the nectar and ambrosia which sustain the gods. More, 
give me more.’ 

Ulysses filled the bowl a second time, and again at 
the giant’s desire a third time. The strong wine had 
now done its work, and the giant’s senses were dulled 
and confused. 4 Dost thou ask my name, Cyclops ? ’ 
said Ulysses. 4 My name is No Man. That is how I 
am called by my father and mother and friends.’ 

4 G-ood,’ answered Polyphemus. 4 This then shall 
be my present to No Man in return for the wine, — that 
I will devour him last of all, when all his companions 
have perished.’ And almost as he spoke, his head fell 
back, and he was fast asleep. 

Now was the time for Ulysses to bestir himself, 


ULYSSES ESCAPES FROM THE CYCLOPS. 


13 


and he quickly brought out the pole that he had 
prepared, and held it in the fire till it was red-hot ; 
then he beckoned to his four companions to come and 
help him, and taking careful aim with the point, he 
thrust it right into the centre of the giant’s eye. The 
others then seized it by the lower end, and all five 
worked it round and round with all their might till the 
eye was quite burnt out. 

Polyphemus roared out with the agonising pain 
until the rocks re-echoed as if it were thundering, and 
nimbly the Greeks sprang out of his way, as he 
drew the pole from his eye and dashed it into frag- 
ments against the wall of the. cave. The giant then 
cried for help to the Cyclops who lived on the neigh- 
bouring hills. 4 Help, help, ye Cyclops ; come to my 
help,’ he shouted through the still night. 

When the Cyclops heard his cry they hastened to 
the cave and called out to him to know what was the 
matter. ‘ Is someone trying to rob thee of thy flocks ? 
or to murder thee by craft or by might ? ’ 

‘ Woe is me ! ’ shouted back Polyphemus from 
within the cave. 6 No Man is murdering me by craft ; 
there is no might in the case.’ 

Then one of them answered, ‘ If no one is using 
craft or might against thee, it must be that Zeus has 
afflicted thee with some sickness. Pray to thy father 
Poseidon, perchance he may be able to help thee..’ 
And with these words they went away, — while Ulysses 
laughed in his sleeve to think how cunningly he had 
deceived the giant. 

For some time longer, Polyphemus continued to 
cry and groan, but after a while he felt along the wall 


14 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


with his hands till he came to the great stone that 
blocked up the entrance of the cave ; this he threw 
aside, and seated himself in the opening, with both 
hands stretched out to prevent anyone from passing 
without his knowledge. He thought in his simplicity 
that the Greeks would have the imprudence to hurry 
to the door in the hope of making their escape, and 
pleased himself with the prospect of tearing them limb 
from limb when they should fall into his hands ; but 
Ulysses had already foreseen this danger, and had 
devised a plan for avoiding it. 

That night the strong he-goats had been fortunately 
housed inside the cave, and for each of his companions 
Ulysses tied three of these together with rushes : the 
man was fastened underneath the body of the middle 
goat, and the two others were placed one on each side 
as a further protection, so that when they passed out, 
the giant should not discover what had been done. 
Ulysses himself mounted a stately ram, the finest in 
the whole herd, who had long thick fleeces of wool 
that stood out far beyond his body ; he swung himself 
underneath the body of this creature, and thrusting 
his hands and feet far down into the wool, he pressed 
his knees against the sides of the ram, and thus 
managed to hold on. 

In this fashion they waited impatiently for the 
morning. At last the time came when the flocks w r ere 
accustomed to leave the cave for their pasture, and the 
he-goats began to put themselves in motion. As they 
went by, the giant felt each one of them with both 
hands, for he thought that his enemies would very 
likely be on their backs, but little did he suspect the 


ULYSSES ESCAPES FROM THE CYCLOPS 15 

cunning manner in which one after another was carried 
past him. 

Ulysses had kept back his ram to the last, but when 
he made his appearance the giant recognised him by 
the touch, for he was his favourite animal. He stroked 
him and talked to him in a caressing tone : 4 How now, 
my trusty ram,’ said he, 6 how comes it that to-day 
thou art the last of all, — thou who hast always been 
the first in the sweet meadow, the first at the brook, 
the first in the stall ? Surely it must be that thou 
grievest because the villain No Man has blinded thy 
master after befooling him with wine. But he shall 
not escape me. If thou couldst speak and tell me in 
what corner he has hidden himself, what joy it would 
give me to seize him and dash him against the rocks ! 

Again he tenderly stroked the ram’s white back, 
and then let him go. And thus all the Greeks were 
rescued from the clutches of the monster. 

When they had gone some little distance from the 
cave, Ulysses released his ram, and freed his com- 
panions from their bonds ; then they drove the herds 
by a circuitous route to the ship. Their companions 
were overjoyed at seeing them again, but they would 
have broken out into loud lamentations at hearing that 
six of their number had been devoured by the Cyclops, 
had not Ulysses motioned to them to be silent lest 
the sound of their mourning should reach the ears of 
Polyphemus, and reveal to him where they were. They 
hurried into the ship as many of the animals as they 
had room for, unfastened the ropes by which their 
vessel was attached to the shore, and rowed away at 
their utmost speed. 


16 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


When they had gone far enough from the island, 
Ulysses bade them halt, and shouted back to Poly- 
phemus, who was still sitting in the entrance of the 
cave, eagerly feeling about with his hands. 6 Cyclops,’ 
he cried, ‘ thou hast not been permitted to destroy the 
friends of the weak man, one and all ; and thy wicked- 
ness has returned upon thine own head, abandoned 
monster, who didst not hesitate to devour thine own 
guests ! It is for crimes like these that Zeus and the 
rest have punished thee.’ 

The giant sat for a moment rigid with rage when 
these words came to his ear from far over the sea, but 
presently he got up, broke off a huge mass of rock, and 
hurled it in the direction from which the voice had 
come. And so prodigious was his strength that the 
rock flew over the ship and fell into the sea beyond it 
with a force sufficient to make great waves that drew 
back the ship towards the shore again. 

But seeing the danger, Ulysses seized a long oar 
which he drove into the bottom of the sea and held 
there, so as to check the course of the ship ; then he 
called to his companions to take their oars again and 
row away as fast as possible from the island of the 
Cyclops. 

He was not yet satisfied, however, and when they 
had gone a little farther, he put up his two hands to 
his mouth so as to form a trumpet, in order to mock 
the Cyclops again from a safer distance. In vain his 
companions represented to him that he had already 
placed them in the greatest danger, and implored him 
to be silent ; he could not resist his desire for one last 
word, and he called out, ‘ Cyclops, when thou art asked 


ULYSSES ESCAPES PROM THE CYCLOPS. 


17 


who it was that blinded thee, thou canst say that it was 
Ulysses, the son of Laertes, king of Ithaca.’ 

At these words Polyphemus sobbed aloud, and said, 
6 Thus then is the ancient oracle fulfilled. Long ago it 
was foretold to me that I should lose my eye at the hand 
of Ulysses. I thought he would have been a man far 
greater and stronger than I, but now a mere pigmy, a 
miserable weakling has blinded me with the help of 
wine. Come back again, my friend, and I will give thee a 
stranger’s present, and will pray to Poseidon to convey 
thee in safety to thy home. For Poseidon is my father, 
and he can also, if he will, give me back my eye again.’ 

But Ulysses shouted back, 4 1 would I wero as cer- 
tain of thine utter destruction as I am that Poseidon 
will never be able to heal thy hurt.’ 

When Polyphemus perceived that his flimsy strata- 
gem had failed, he raised his hands to heaven and said, 
4 Hear me, Poseidon. If I am indeed thy son, grant 
that Ulysses may never again see his native land. Or 
if it has been decreed otherwise, grant at least that he 
may reach it in misery, after many years, in the ship 
of a stranger, and without his friends, and that trouble 
and danger may await him in his home.’ 

Again he arose, and breaking off in his rage a still 
larger piece of rock than before, he hurled it with his 
utmost strength towards the ship. As before it went 
straight towards its aim, but this time it fell short of 
the ship, which was now farther off, and the waves 
which it made carried the vessel away towards the 
island of goats. 

When the Greeks arrived at the smaller island, they 
found their friends in great anxiety on account of their 


18 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


long absence, but all the more were they rejoiced that 
at least Ulysses himself and the greater number of his 
men had returned in safety. Ulysses divided the 
flocks which they had brought away with them, but 
the great ram to whom he owed his safety he kept for 
his own share, and offered him up to Zeus as a thank- 
offering for having been protected through such great 
perils. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE ISLAND OF AEOLUS AND THE LAESTKYGONIANS. 

On the next day the Greeks sailed away from the 
island of goats, and after some time they came to 
another island which was not fastened firmly to the 
bottom of the sea, but floated about from place to place. 
This was the abode of King Aeolus, who had been en- 
trusted by Zeus with the management of the winds, 
and was able to let them loose or imprison them as he 
pleased. He lived with his wife and twelve sons and 
daughters in a beautiful palace, where they all feasted 
together every day. 

Aeolus received Ulysses and his companions very 
kindly and kept them with him a whole month, for he 
was never tired of hearing the stories they had to tell 
about the war and the fall of Troy. At last, however, 
it was time for them to continue their journey, and 
Aeolus gave them a most valuable present as a parting 
gift. It was a huge leather bag in which all the winds 
that would be unfavourable to their journey were tied 
up, and it was so tightly fastened with a silver cord that 
not even the tiniest little breeze could escape ; only 
the wind that Ulysses needed to help him on his way 
was free, and this was to blow steadily until the hero 
and his friends had reached their own land in safety. 

2 


20 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

For nine days and nights they sailed on, speeded by 
the favourable wind, until on the tenth day they could 
see the smoke rising from the herdsmen’s huts scat- 
tered about the island. During this whole time 
Ulysses had kept awake and attended to the steering 
of the vessel, but now he felt himself overpowered with 
fatigue, and thinking that he might dismiss all further 
anxiety, he lay down and went to sleep. 

Some of his companions however began to grumble 
and say to the rest, ‘ It is all very well for Ulysses, who 
returns home to be loved and honoured, and who brings 
with him a goodly booty from Troy, but we arrive 
with empty hands. See moreover the huge bag lying 
yonder which Aeolus has given him, full, no doubt, of 
gold and silver. Let us open it and see what sort of 
treasure it contains.’ 

The others, who were equally curious, willingly 
agreed to unfasten the knot, but what was their 
astonishment when with a mighty rush the pent-up 
winds burst wdldly forth, and blew furiously all around 
them. The ships were soon tossing about violently, and 
Ulysses awoke. 

When he saw the mischief his companions had 
done, he was tempted for a moment to throw himself 
into the sea and put an end to his life. But his brave 
heart did not long give way to despair, and he wrapped 
himself up in his cloak and lay quietly on the deck 
while the winds drove the ships about hither and 
thither, till at last they brought them back again to 
the floating island of Aeolus. 

Ulysses determined to try if Aeolus would help him 
once more, so he made his way back to the palace. He 


ISLAND OF AEOLUS AND THE LAESTRYGONIANS. 21 

found the king seated at a banquet with all his sons 
and daughters, and stood humbly on the threshold, as 
was the custom for those who came to sue for help. 
They were all much astonished at seeing him, for they 
had made sure that by this time he w T ould be safe at 
home, and they called out, 4 Why hast thou come back 
to us ? What evil fate has befallen thee ? We did our 
utmost to speed thee on thy way.’ 

Sorrowfully Ulysses made answer, c My foolish com- 
panions are alone to blame, and the sleep which over- 
came me. But I pray you, renew your kindness to me, 
for indeed ye can if ye will.’ 

All the rest remained silent, but the father Aeolus 
rose and beckoned to him with his hand to depart, 
crying out, 6 Hie thee away from this island, cursed 
mortal. The gods must indeed hate th§e, otherwise 
wouldst thou long ago have reached thy home.’ So 
Ulysses had to return to his ship, and trust to himself 
alone for help. 

It was now necessary to row both by day and night, 
for the favourable wind had disappeared. On the 
seventh day they reached the country of the Laestry- 
gonians, where the day follows so closely upon the 
night, that hardly has night set in when the new day 
begins to dawn. In this country a man who could do 
without sleep might earn double wages. First he 
might work all day as a shepherd ; and then, when he 
had brought home his sheep at night, he might go out 
again almost immediately as a herdsman with the 
cattle. 

Ulysses saw an excellent haven, into which he 
guided his ships : it was a creek shut in on both sides 


22 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


by high rocks, so that the water remained quite calm 
even in the most violent storm. The other ships 
sailed some way up into the creek, but Ulysses moored 
his own vessel close to the entrance, and having done 
this, he climbed up a mountain to survey the surround- 
ing country. No ploughed fields could he see, nor any 
other sign of human handiwork, but in the distance 
there rose some smoke, and he chose out two of his 
companions and sent them with a herald to find out 
what they could about the country. 

They soon discovered a beaten path, which led them 
to a spring not far from the city whose smoke they had 
seen ; and just then a maiden came out to draw water 
in her pitcher. The Greeks asked her the way to the 
king’s palace, and she was able to direct them, for she 
was the king’s daughter. Soon they reached the 
house, and at the entrance they were met by the 
queen, but on seeing her they were seized with horror, 
for she was a monstrous woman, as big as a mountain. 
She hastened to the door, and with a voice that shook all 
the neighbouring houses, she called to her husband, who 
was at the market. He immediately returned, and as 
soon as he saw the strangers he seized one of them, tore 
him in pieces, and devoured him. The other two ran 
away as fast as they could, and as soon as they arrived 
at the creek, shouted breathlessly to their companions, 
‘ Away, away, this country is inhabited by men-eaters.’ 

Immediately everyone lent a hand in helping to 
loose the ships. But the king had meanwhile called 
his people together, and now they came after the Greeks 
in crowds, — not men but giants. Little did it avail the 
Greeks that they had already made loose their ships, 


ISLAND OF AEOLUS AND THE LAESTRYGONIANS. 23 

for the Laestrygonians crushed them with enormous 
stones, which they threw from the shore, and when 
the unfortunate Greeks fell out into the water, the 
giants pierced them through with their spears, and 
then drew them to the shore and devoured them. 

When Ulysses saw the destruction of the other 
ships he did not stop to unfasten his, but drawing his 
sword, cut through the ropes, and ordered his com- 
panions to row with all their might till they were safe 
in the open sea again. Thus he saved his ship, and it 
was the only one that escaped. Some broken fragments 
of the other vessels alone floated out to sea,^ — the whole 
of the crews perished. 


24 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER Y. 

THE ENCHANTRESS CIRCE. 

The ship of Ulysses now continued its solitary way, and 
by-and-by came to another land. By this time the 
sailors were quite worn out with the long rowing, 
otherwise they would have been afraid to land again, 
lest some new misfortune should befall them. Weary 
and dejected, they remained for two days at anchor on 
the shore, but on the third day, Ulysses took his sword 
and spear, and set out to explore the country. He 
climbed up a little hill, and perceived that he was on 
an island ; before him lay a thick wood, but beyond it 
was some smoke which showed him that the island 
was inhabited. 

He went on until his ship was quite out of sight, 
and presently came to a meadow through which there 
ran a little brook. It was about the middle of the 
day, and just then there came out of the forest a great 
stag with tall branching antlers, who was on his way 
to the brook to quench his thirst. Ulysses raised his 
spear, threw it at him and hit him in the back. The 
spear went right through his spine, and he fell 
immediately and died without a groan. In order to 
carry him back the more easily, Ulysses plucked some 


THE ENCHANTRESS CIRCE. 


25 


pliable twigs from the nearest trees and twisted them 
into a rope with which he bound the animal’s legs 
together. Then he slung him on to his back, but so 
heavy was the huge stag that Ulysses had to lean 
heavily on his spear for support in carrying his burden 
back to the shore. There he found his companions sit- 
ting wrapped up in their cloaks, just as disheartened 
and faint-spirited as when he had left them. 

He threw down his booty before them and exclaimed, 
4 Friends, be of good courage; death has not as yet 
been allotted to us by the gods. Rise up then, and 
let us eat and drink again.’ 

The men threw off their cloaks and jumped up, and 
when they had made an end of examining and admiring 
the huge animal, they prepared a sumptuous repast. 
All the remainder of the day was spent in feasting on 
the flesh, and when night came they again wrapped 
themselves in their cloaks and lay down on the shore 
to sleep. 

Next morning Ulysses assembled his companions 
and said, 4 We have come far out of our way, and do 
not know which course we should take. There is but 
one thing to be done. We must seek for some kindly 
disposed people who will be willing to direct us. 
Yesterday, in the distance, I saw some smoke rising, 
and now some of us must go and find out who they are 
that live on the island.’ 

At these words the Greeks raised loud cries of 
grief, for they feared lest the island might be the 
abode of such a race as the Cyclops, or even the Laes- 
trygonians. But little could be gained by weeping ; 
and without heeding their lamentations, Ulysses divided 


26 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


his companions into two bands, each containing two- 
and-twenty men. One band was to be under the 
direction of Eurylochus, who, next to himself, was the 
best man among them ; the other he was to lead him- 
self. Then they drew lots to see which of them should 
go on before to spy out the land, and the lot fell to 
Eurylochus, who immediately set out with his com- 
panions. They parted from their friends with many 
tears on both sides, for they had abandoned all hope 
of ever again meeting with any good fortune. 

Eurylochus and his companions went through the 
wood, and emerged upon a very pleasant country, in the 
midst of which stood a magnificent palace. It was not 
however without alarm that they saw wolves and lions 
of a truly marvellous kind prowling about it : instead 
of behaving as wolves and lions might be expected 
to do, they came up to them in a friendly manner, 
wagging their tails like dogs who run to greet their 
master on his return home, which seemed to the Greeks 
a very strange proceeding. Inside the palace a 
woman’s voice was heard singing, and when they had 
reached the gate of the courtyard, they could distinguish 
the sound of a loom at work. 

They knocked at the door for admittance, and im- 
mediately it was opened by a tall, beautiful woman 
who invited them to enter the palace. All but Eury- 
lochus followed her, but his suspicions had been aroused 
by the wonderful animals, and he remained outside. 
For some time he heard the sound of his companions’ 
voices engaged in conversation within, but suddenly 
all was silent. He waited for a long time hoping they 
would return, but not one of them came back, and he 


THE ENCHANTRESS CIRCE. 27 

was forced to conclude that some evil had befallen 
them. 

It was even so. The beautiful woman who had 
invited them in so pleasantly, was the enchantress 
Circe, whose delight it was to change her guests into 
animals. When the Greeks entered her house, she 
offered them seats, and set before them a delicious 
drink, in which however she had mixed a magic juice. 
When they had drunk their fill, she touched them, one 
after another, with her wand, and immediately their 
heads and voices were changed into the heads and 
voices of swine, and their bodies became those of swine 
with bristles growing all over them. Then the en- 
chantress drove them into a dark miserable sty, and 
strewed acorns and other food for pigs before them. 
The unhappy men had retained their human thoughts, 
and wept bitterly with grief and shame, but no words 
could they utter. 

Eurylochus hastened back through the wood to 
Ulysses. For a long time he could but give way to 
his tears ; no words would come to his lips. But at 
last, in answer to the questions of his friends, he 
related what had happened. They all threw them- 
selves on the ground and joined their lamentations to 
his, but Ulysses armed himself with his sword and 
bow, and called upon Eurylochus to lead him to the 
palace. 

In an agony of fear, Eurylochus threw himself at 
the feet of Ulysses, and, embracing his knees, implored 
him not to require this of him : he thought that 
Ulysses would surely perish without being able to 
rescue his friends, and that it would be far better for 
2 * 


28 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


them to return at once to their ships and hasten away 
as fast as they could. But Ulysses looked at him with 
contempt, and answered, 4 Very well, then. Remain 
here, eat and drink. I shall follow the bidding of my 
heart.’ And with these words he set off towards the 
wood. 


CHAPTER VI. 


ULYSSES AND CIRCE. 

Ulysses had nearly reached the further end of the 
wood when there met him a beautiful youth : it was 
Hermes, the messenger of the gods, who had taken 
the form of a man. He said to Ulysses, 4 Little dost 
thou know the danger into which thou art running. 
This island is the home of the enchantress Circe. She 
has already changed thy companions into swine, and 
the same fate might well await thee also. Courage 
and stoutness of heart are of no avail against her spells. 
Take therefore this little root and carry it in thy 
bosom. So long as thou retainest it there, her magic 
drink will be powerless to harm thee.’ As he spoke, 
he stooped down and pulled from the earth a little 
plant, known only to the gods, with a black root and 
white juice. This he gave to Ulysses, and then 
returned to the abode of the gods. 

Ulysses continued his way towards the palace, and 
when he knocked at the door, the enchantress came 
out as before and invited him into the house. When 
they had entered the principal room, she pointed to a 
beautiful chair in which she begged him to sit down 
and rest, and then she fetched the magic drink. 


30 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


Ulysses took it as if he knew nothing of her evil 
intentions, and when he had finished, the enchantress 
touched him with her wand, and cried out, 4 Away with 
thee to the sty to join thy companions.’ 

But what was her surprise and terror when she 
perceived that her magic spell had no effect, and 
Ulysses sprang upon her with his drawn sword ! With 
a loud cry she threw herself down before him and 
embraced his knees, crying out, 4 Spare, oh spare me, 
whoever thou mayest be, over whom my magic charm 
is powerless ! But indeed thou canst be no other than 
Ulysses himself, for Hermes once told me that Ulysses 
would come hither *on his return from Troy. Put 
back thy sword into its sheath, and from henceforth 
shalt thou receive .from me nothing but love and kind- 
ness.’ 

But Ulysses made answer, 4 1 cannot trust thee, 
for thou hast changed my companions into swine. 
Swear to me by the most sacred of all oaths that thou 
wilt no more employ any charm against me.’ 

The oath was taken, and then Circe called her 
maidens, who prepared everything for a sumptuous 
meal. Also for the refreshment of Ulysses they made 
ready a warm bath, and one of the maidens washed 
his head and feet and shoulders, and anointed his 
limbs with sweetly scented salve. Then Ulysses and 
Circe sat down together at the table, on which food 
and wine had been laid out. The table itself was of 
pure silver, and indeed everything in the house of 
Circe was made of either silver or gold. But in vain 
did she press her guest to eat and drink : he sat in 
sorrowful silence, refusing to touch anything. Again 


ULYSSES AND CIRCE. 


31 


she assured him that he was perfectly safe from her 
spells, but he answered , 4 What right-minded man could 
take any pleasure in food or in drink, knowing his 
friends to be still suffering under enchantment? If 
thou art indeed sincere in thy professions of kindness, 
first free them from their wretched state and let me 
see them again.’ 

Circe went at once to the sty and released the 
swine; and when she had passed her wand two or 
three times over their backs, their bristles disappeared, 
and they returned to their human form. They now 
looked even younger and more comely than before, 
and Circe led them back into the palace and presented 
them to Ulysses, who was still sitting as she had left 
him. When they saw Ulysses, they knew who it was 
that had saved them, and throwing themselves on 
their knees before him, they embraced his head, his 
hands and his feet with tears of joy. Even Circe 
was touched at seeing their raptures, and she said to 
Ulysses, 4 Gro now to thy ship and draw it up to the 
shore ; then hide your goods in the nearest cavern, and 
return, bringing all thy companions with thee.’ 

It was with a far lighter heart that Ulysses hastened 
this time to return through the wood, and soon he 
reached his ship. He found his men plunged in deep 
sorrow, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing 
him or their other companions again. So much the 
greater, therefore, was their joy when they beheld him 
standing before them safe and well, and heard that 
their friends were also saved. Ulysses ordered his men 
to put the ship into a place of safety and then return 
with him to the palace of Circe, where they would 


32 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


find the rest already engaged in feasting and merri- 
ment. 

No command could have been more welcome to the 
greater number of them, but Eurylochus was still full 
of fear, and refused to believe in the oath that had been 
sworn by Circe. 6 Ye fools,’ he said to the others, 
6 has not enough of evil befallen you already, that ye 
are so eager to thrust yourselves into the power of an 
artful witch ? Are ye then desirous of being changed into 
wolves and bears, to dance attendance in the purlieus 
of her palace? Think of the Cyclops. There also 
it was the fool-hardy Ulysses who led us on to destruc- 
tion.’ 

At these words Ulysses was almost beside himself 
with anger, and, drawing his sword from the sheath, he 
would have cut off the head of Eurylochus, had not 
the others held him back and appeased him with 
gentle words. ‘Let us leave him here,’ said they, 
‘ if. thou wilt ; he can take care of the ship. But as 
for us, we will follow thee to the palace of Circe.’ 

They turned their backs upon the shore, therefore, 
and began to follow Ulysses to the palace of Circe, 
leaving Eurylochus behind them ; but they had not 
gone far through the wood, when one of them, turning 
round, observed that he was following at a distance. 
He feared the displeasure of Ulysses even more than 
the magic of Circe. 

It was a joyful meeting when all the shipmates 
found themselves together once more, for never again 
had they expected to look one another in the face. 
The goddess invited them all to stay with her until they 
had completely recovered from the hardships they had 


ULYSSES AND CIRCE. 


33 


undergone, and felt ready to pursue their journey with 
renewed vigour. The invitation was most welcome, 
and month after month passed away in daily feasting 
and pleasant companionship. 

But at last, after a w T hole year had gone by, they 
began to feel the cravings of home-sickness, and Ulysses 
begged Circe to allow them to take their leave. To 
this she consented, but she said to him, 4 If thou 
wouldst know what it would be well for thee to avoid 
on thy journey home, so as to ensure thy return in 
happiness to the wife who is waiting for thee, thou 
must first descend to the Land of the Dead, and 
consult the wise seer Tiresias, who will give thee good 
counsel.’ 

The brave heart of Ulysses had never yet trembled 
at any danger that threatened him from the living, but 
now he shuddered at the thought of having to make 
his way through the horrors of the Lower World, and of 
coming into contact with the soulless shadows of the 
dead. But when he found that by no other means could 
he hope to return in safety to his home, he immediately 
resolved, though with a heavy heart, to follow the 
advice of Circe. 

The next day there was great joy among his com- 
panions when he awoke them with the news that they 
were to set out on the following morning. He took 
care, however, not to tell them into what terrible scenes 
he was about to lead them. 

Meanwhile Ulysses was not to leave even the island 
of Circe without losing one of his companions. The 
evening before they started, the youngest of them all, 
whose name was Elpenor, — not a specially brave man 


34 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


was he, nor in any way to be regarded as one of the 
best, — became heated from drinking too much wine, and 
went up to the roof of the palace to sleep in the cool 
night air. In the morning he was awakened by the 
stir and bustle caused by the departure of his com- 
panions, and started up to join them; but being still 
somewhat confused in consequence of his drunkenness, 
he altogether forgot where he was, and instead of 
descending from the roof by the proper stair, he fell 
over the edge, and, breaking his neck, died instantly. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE LAND OF THE DEAD — ULYSSES MEETS HIS 
MOTHER, ELPENOR, AND TIRESIAS. 

When they were well on their way to the shore, Ulysses 
told his men that the next thing they had to do, was 
to set sail for the Land of the Dead. They received 
this news with cries of grief and much tearing of the 
hair, but at last they found themselves obliged to yield 
to necessity, and they pushed the ship out to sea, set 
up the mast, und unfurled the sail. 

Immediately a favourable wind sprang up, sent by 
Circe to speed them on their way; and by evening 
they had reached the shore of the great stream Oceanus 
which flows right round the world. Here they met 
with the Cimmerians, a people who live in dense gloom 
and perpetual night, and had never in all their lives 
seen a ray of sunshine. 

The Greeks landed close to a grove of willows and 
dusky poplars, and went along the shore till they came 
to the place that Circe had described to them. There 
they halted, and Ulysses dug out with his sword a 
shallow pit, a yard long and a yard broad. Into this 
he poured three libations for the dead, — the first of 
honey and milk, the second of sweet wine, and the- last 


36 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


of water; over these he also strewed a measure of the 
finest barley meal. Then he prayed to the dead, and 
promised that if he should return to Ithaca, he would 
offer to them a cow and whatever else might be w T ell- 
pleasing to them, and that to Tiresias in particular he 
would sacrifice a whole black ram. After this, he 
slaughtered the animals with which Circe had provided 
him, — a black ram, and a black sheep. He held their 
necks close to the pit, as Circe had directed, and 
looked away whilst he stabbed them with his sword ; 
then the bodies of the animals were carried off by his 
companions and burnt upon a flaming pile of wood, 
which they had heaped up and set alight as an offering 
to the gods of the Lower World. No sooner was the 
pit filled with blood, than the dead ghosts below the 
earth smelt it, and came up in crowds, pressing one 
upon the other, in their eagerness to taste it; but 
Ulysses kept them off with his drawn sword, for before 
all others he wanted the wise Tiresias to drink of the 
blood. 

Among the rest came Elpenor, who only the day 
before had fallen from the roof and been killed. In 
his case it was no hankering after the blood that 
brought him, for his corpse still lay unburied in the 
house of Circe, and he was not yet a real shadow like 
the rest. He was still able to think and to speak, but 
this half-life was a burden to him, and he longed for 
the rest and absence of consciousness enjoyed by the 
shadows. When Ulysses saw him and heard him 
complain of his misfortune, the tears came into his 
eyes, and he cried, 4 Elpenor, how earnest thou hither 


THE LAND OF THE DEAD. 


37 


into the land of Shades ? Thou hast arrived more 
quickly on foot than I in my ship ! ’ 

With many sighs Elpenor related what had 
happened to him, and implored Ulysses by all that 
was dear to him to bury his corpse as soon as he 
should return to the island of Circe. 4 Raise, I beseech 
thee,’ said he, c a funeral pile, and burn thereon my 
body, and all that belongs to me ; then let a mound of 
earth be heaped up above my ashes on the sea-shore, 
and place upon it the oar which I have used so long.’ 
And Ulysses promised to do all that he desired. 

All this time Ulysses had held his sword over the 
pit that contained the blood, to keep off the shadows who 
were still pressing towards it. Amongst them he recog- 
nised his own mother, and hard indeed he found it to 
turn her away ; but he remained true to his purpose, 
and presently the wise Tiresias 1 rose up out of the 
earth, with a golden staff in his hand. He was the 
only one in the Land of the Shades who retained his 
human thoughts ; — all the rest were deprived of con- 
sciousness. He said to Ulysses, 4 Take away thy 
sword that I may drink of the blood, and give thee the 
information thou desirest.’ 

Ulysses returned his sword to its sheath, and when 
Tiresias had drunk of the blood, he again spoke. 

4 Thou art come^ said he, 6 to ask me about thy return 
home. Many are the toils and dangers which thou 
must still undergo, for Poseidon is angry with thee, 
because thou hast blinded his son, the Cyclops. But 
though many troubles are before you, yet may ye all of 
you reach your homes in safety, if ye beware of meddling 
1 See Myths of Hellas , p. 225. 


38 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


with the flocks of the sun-god in the island of Thrinacia. 
Should ye, however, attempt to seize those herds, then 
will thy companions and their ship be lost beyond 
recovery, and thou thyself wilt return indeed to thy 
home, but only after many years, alone, and in a strange 
vessel; — and dire confusion shalt thou find in thy 
house. As soon as thou hast dealt justice and re- 
established order there, thou must hasten to appease 
the anger of Poseidon. To accomplish this, thou wilt 
again have to leave thy home. Take with thee an oar 
in thy hand, and continue thy wanderings into unknown 
countries, farther and farther away, until thou hast 
reached a land where the inhabitants have never seen 
the sea, nor any ship, and therefore eat their bread with- 
out salt. I will give thee a sign by which thou shalt know 
when thou hast reached it. When one of them points to 
thy oar, taking it for the winnowing fan of a country- 
man, and asks thee for what purpose thou art carrying 
it about, then wilt thou know that thou hast attained 
to that land. There plant thy oar in the earth, and 
sacrifice to Poseidon a ram, a bull, and a boar; and 
when thou hast again returned to thy house, offer 
goodly gifts to those who dwell on Mount Olympus. 
Then wilt thou live many days, and at last die in peace, 
and thy people will enjoy happiness and prosperity/ 

4 As the gods will,’ answered Ulysses, 4 so let it be. 
But tell me, I pray thee, for I see yonder the shade of 
my mother, who stands silent and knows me not, — 
what can I do in order to bring myself to her remem- 
brance ? * 

4 To whichever of the dead thou givest to drink 
of the blood,’ replied Tiresias, 4 will power be given to 


THE LAND OF THE DEAD. 39 

speak with thee.’ And as he said these words, he dis- 
appeared again under the earth. 

When he had gone, Ulysses gave his mother 
some of the blood to drink, and as soon as she had 
tasted it, she recognised her dearly loved .son. * Why 
hast thou come into the kingdom of darkness ? ’ she 
cried, ‘for strange and horrible it is to the eyes of 
living men ! Art thou still a wanderer, not yet 
returned from Troy to thy home in Ithaca ? and does 
thy wife still wait in vain for thy coming ? ’ 

4 Ah ! dear mother,’ was the answer of Ulysses, 4 it is 
dire necessity that brings me hither to ask counsel from 
Tiresias. Never again have I set foot in the land 
of Greece since I left our island to follow Agamemnon 
to the war against Troy. But how earnest thou here ? 
Is it after long illness that thou hast died? or did 
Artemis smite thee suddenly with one of her arrows ? 
Tell me moreover of my father, and the little son whom 
I was forced to leave, and also of my dear wife. Say, 
does she still remain in my house, taking care of my 
goods, or has she perchance married some other ? ’ 

4 Faithfully and patiently she tarries in thy house,’ 
replied his mother , 4 but her days are filled with sorrow, 
and she weeps continually for the husband who is so long 
away. Thy son is grown up to be a goodly youth, but thy 
father has given himself over to grief on thy account, 
and will no more come into the city ; in a mean hut, 
far from all other dwellings, he has taken up his abode, 
and there, rejecting all pleasure and all comfort, he 
leads a wretched life ; the poorest clothes cover him, 
and he sleeps, like the lowest herdsmen, in winter 
among the ashes of the hearth, and in summer on a 


40 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


heap of fallen leaves in the open air. So also it is no 
lingering sickness that has brought me to this place, 
neither was it one of the arrows of Artemis that slew 
me, but rather the longing after thee, my beloved son, 
for whom I have so long waited in vain ! 5 

At these words Ulysses was deeply moved, and 
stretched out his arms to embrace his mother, but 
only the empty air met his touch. More sorrowfully 
than ever, he now cried out, ‘ Why dost thou escape 
from my embrace? Art thou perhaps nothing but 
an apparition, sent hither by the Queen of the Shades 
to mock my grief? ’ 

But his mother answered, ‘ Dear son, this is the lot 
of mortals when life has departed from them. The 
sinews which before held flesh and bones together, have 
been consumed by the heat of the funeral pyre, and the 
soul flits about hither and thither like a dream. But 
thou, haste thee to return to the light of the sun, and 
keep in thy remembrance that which thou hast here 
seen and heard, that one day thou mayest be able to 
tell it to thy wife.’ 

These words were the last that the mother of Ulysses 
was able to speak. The blood she had drunk had now 
spent its strength, and she flitted from him, an uncon- 
scious shadow as before. 


CHAPTEE VIIL 


THE LAND OF THE DEAD ( continued ) — AJAX, ACHILLES, 
AND AGAMEMNON. 

Among the shadows, Ulysses saw many a brave hero who 
had fallen, fighting against Troy ; but how great was 
his sorrow* and surprise when he recognised in their 
midst King Agamemnon, who had conquered the city 
in triumph, and had set sail for Greece, covered with 
glory and honour. 

As soon as he had been restored to consciousness 
by a draught of the blood, Ulysses asked him whether 
his ship had sunk on the way home, or whether he 
had been slain by enemies in a strange country. 

But he answered, 4 Neither did I perish at sea, nor 
was it in any strange land that my enemy slew me. 
He who murdered me was Aegisthus, my near relation. 
My own cousin it was, who, in league with my wife, 
slew my companions and myself also. Hardly had I 
set foot in my beloved country, when he treacherously 
invited me to a banquet, and there slew me as men 
slay an ox eating his food at the manger. Thou too 
hast faced death in many forms, both alone, and when 
in battle whole ranks of men are mowed dow T n together. 
But never can it to thee have appeared so horrible as to us 


42 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

when we lay covered with mortal wounds on the bloody 
ground, strewn with drinking vessels, food, and tables 
overturned. There I died, whilst my unnatural wife 
looked on and rejoiced. No pity had she, — nor even 
when life had left me, did she shut my mouth or close 
my staring eyes. But thou, Ulysses, art secure against 
so sad a fate ; for thy wife, Penelope, is true and good. A 
young wife we left her when we went to the war, holding 
in her arms her little son, who must now be a grown 
man. How he will rejoice to welcome back his father, 
and press him to his heart ! But my wife pitilessly 
wrought my destruction, yea, even before I could so 
much as look upon the face of my only son ! ’ 

After this there came by a number of noble shadow- 
forms, amongst whom were Achilles and his friend 
Patroclus, the mighty Ajax, and Antilochus, the son 
of the wise old Nestor. When Ulysses had caused 
himself to be recognised by Achilles, he said, 6 Truly 
mayest thou, Achilles, be praised as the happiest of 
men, for while thou wast alive we honoured thee as a 
god, and even here among the dead, all the bravest 
heroes follow thee wherever thou goest.’ 

But Achilles answered, ‘ That is but poor comfort. 
I tell thee, that I would rather be in the Upper World, 
the slave of the poorest man alive, than a king here 
among the dead. But give me news of those I have 
left behind. My son Neoptolemus, does he maintain 
the honour of my name ? And how fares it with my 
father Peleus, now that I am no longer able to protect 
him ? ’ 

6 Of Peleus,’ replied Ulysses, * have I heard nothing ; 
but thy son has proved himself worthy of so great a 


THE LAND OF THE DEAD. 


43 


father. In the camp before Troy he was ever one of 
the best in council ; and in the battle he was no coward, 
hiding amongst the crowd, but always in the front of 
the fight, and woe to the enemy who crossed his path ! 
When we were in the Wooden Horse , 1 many a hero grew 
pale and trembled, but he — with his spear in one hand 
and his sword-hilt in the grasp of the other — was only 
impatient to leap forth from the horse, and rush on the 
enemy. And when the city of Priam was sacked and 
a great booty was taken, he did not fail to receive his 
rightful share, and an extra portion besides, as an honour- 
able distinction. Not once,- moreover, was he wounded, 
but whole and unscathed he returned to his home.’ 
The heart of Achilles was filled with joy at these good 
tidings, and he passed on with proud steps. 

The followers of Achilles who had accompanied him 
to the place where Ulysses was standing, greeted the 
hero as old friends, — only the mighty Ajax stood aloof 
in sullen silence, with his eyes turned away from him, 
for he still remembered with vexation how Ulysses had 
been preferred to himself in the competition for the 
arms of Achilles . 2 

Meeting him thus again in the Land of Shades, 
Ulysses was filled with desire to appease his anger, 
and addressed him in friendly tones. 4 Dost thou still 
in death, Ajax, retain thine anger against me,’ he said, 

4 on account of those ill-starred weapons ? Not mine 
was the fault. It was the will of the gods to punish 
us, and therefore did they stir up strife between us. 
Otherwise could we not have quarrelled, for thou wast 

* See The Trojpn War , pp. 86-91. Longmans & Co. 

2 Ibid . pp. 74-76. 

3 


44 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


ever to us a tower of strength in the battle, and we 
mourned for thee, even as for Achilles. Put away thy 
wrath, Ajax, and come nearer to me.’ But Ajax answered 
nothing, and, still nursing his anger, disappeared among 
the other shadows. 

Before he left the Lower World, Ulysses saw also the 
punishments reserved for those who had been guilty 
during their lifetime of great wickedness. There lay 
the giant Tityus, with his huge body stretched out 
over nine acres of land; upon it were seated two 
vultures who continually pecked at his liver and ate it, — 
and every time they did so, the flesh closed over the 
place, and the liver grew again. There stood Tantalus 1 
— tortured with unceasing hunger and thirst — in water 
that reached up to his knees, and close to trees that 
almost dropped their fruits into his mouth ; but when- 
ever he tried to pluck the fruit, the boughs raised 
themselves up into the air beyond his reach, and when- 
ever he put down his mouth to drink the water, it 
flowed away from him into the earth. There too was 
Sisyphus , 2 toiling up the side of a mountain with a great 
mass of rock which he was trying to roll to the top. 
He had been commanded to convey it thither and hurl 
it over the brow ; but every time he had almost reached 
the summit, andbegan to hope that his labour would soon 
be at an end, the stone bounded away from him, and, 
with a sound like thunder, rolled back to the bottom 
of the mountain. 

Suddenly the crowd of shadows which surrounded 
Ulysses seemed to become more agitated than before, 

1 See Myths of Hellas , p. 76. 

2 Ibid. p. 44. 


THE LAND OF THE DEAD. 


45 


and he, fearing that Persephone was about to bring 
before them one of the sight s of horror which no mortal 
could face, — not even the bravest, — told his companions 
that they would return at once to the ship. Their 
joy at hearing this announcement was great, but greater 
still was their satisfaction when they found themselves 
fairly out of the land of darkness, and could once more 
look upon the light of the sun. 


46 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE SIRENS. 

With a favourable wind the ship made good speed on 
her return journey, and reached the island of Circe 
early the next day. Ulysses lost no time in fetching 
the corpse of Elpenor from the palace, and burying it 
according to his wishes on a projecting point of land 
that stretched out some way into the sea. Circe had 
sent down food and wine to the shore for her guests, 
and she herself came also and sat with Ulysses in a 
cave near by, whilst his companions feasted on the 
beach. 

Ulysses related to her all that he had heard from 
Tiresias, and then she said, ‘ Now will I tell thee of 
the perils ye will have to pass through before ye reach 
the island of Thrinacia. First are the Sirens, who 
allure all men by their magic song, in order that they 
may devour them. They sit singing in a pleasant 
meadow, but all round them lie the bleached bones of 
those whom they have enticed to their ruin.’ 

Circe told Ulysses how' to protect his companions 
from hearing the song, and how he might hear it 
himself without danger, and then she continued, 
‘After this ye have a choice of two ways. One of 


TIIE SIRENS. 


47 


them leads through the Wandering Rocks, and whoever 
goes there is lost without remedy, for they rush hither 
and thither with the utmost speed, making great billows 
as they go, and everything that comes in their way is 
dashed, to pieces, or else destroyed by the flames that 
break from them. No bird even has ever flown past 
them uninjured ; the very doves that bring to Father 
Zeus the ambrosia, the food of the gods, never reach 
Mount Olympus without leaving one of their number 
behind, and in order to keep it* complete, Zeus has to 
create a fresh dove every time. Neither has any ship 
ever passed them, excepting one, — that was the Argo, 
which was enabled to escape, only by the help of Hera. 1 

‘ The other way leads between the rocks of Scylla 
and Charybdis. One of these rocks rises straight up 
from the sea, and its top is always covered with clouds. 
About half-way up is a deep cavern, the abode of the 
monster Scylla. Her voice sounds like that of a young 
dog, but she has a body of enormous size. Far inside 
the cave she hides her twelve feet, and out of it she 
stretches her six necks. At the end of each neck is a 
horrible head with three rows of murderous teeth, and 
these heads she bends down into the water to fish for 
dolphins, sea-dogs, and whatever else she can find in 
the sea. No ship can go by without her taking toll, 
for with each of her six heads, she seizes one of the 
men as they row past her. 

6 Not more than an arrow-shot from Scylla is the 
other, lower rock — marked by a wild fig-tree that 
grows upon it — where, three times a day, Charybdis 
sucks in the sea and spits it out again. Equally 
1 See Myths of Hellas, p. 168. 


48 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


doomed to destruction is the ship that passes Charybdis, 
whether it goes by at the time of the sucking-in, or at 
the time of the spitting-out. When she draws in the 
water, it whirls in wild tumult down her throat, making 
the whole rock tremble and quake, until at last all the 
water around has been taken in, and the bottom of 
the sea is left quite bare and exposed to view. No less 
terrible is the moment when the water is cast forth 
again, for then it bubbles up as if it were being boiled 
furiously in a gigantic cauldron ; the whole sea is 
covered with foam and froth, and rushes away from the 
rock with irresistible force. Therefore ye must sail 
right under Scylla, for it is better that six men should 
perish than that the whole crew should be lost, and the 
ship also.’ 

Here Ulysses interrupted the goddess. 4 But can 
I not avoid Charybdis,’ said he, 4 and at the same time 
keep off Scylla with my sword and spear ? ’ 

4 Thou art but a fool,’ replied Circe, smiling, 4 who 
talkest of fighting with the Immortals ! The monster 
Scylla cannot die, and no weapon can pierce her skin. 
By flight and speed alone can ye hope, any of you, to 
escape her. Should ye delay but a moment, her six 
heads would be thrust forth a second time, and ye 
would lose six more of your comrades.’ 

Early the next morning the ship sped on its way, 
again assisted by a favourable wind. But when the 
rocks of the Sirens came into view, the wind fell, and 
they had to take to the oars. Circe had given to Ulysses 
a great cake of wax, which he now divided with his 
sword into a number of pieces, and with it plastered 
up the ears of all his companions. He had previously 


THE SIRENS. 


49 


told them that as soon as this was done they must bind 
him with a strong cord to the mast of the ship, and 
that even if he entreated them to unloose him, they 
were to take no notice, but only to bind him with a 
second and still stronger cord. 

Soon they were near enough to the rocks of the 
Sirens for Ulysses to hear their song, — and charming 
and sweet and innocent beyond all telling it sounded in 
hisears. This was what they sang: — ‘ Renowned Ulysses, 
noble hero, stop thy ship and listen to our song ! Never 
before thee has any man failed to stop and listen to u-s, 
and much have we taught to many a one, of which he 
was formerly in ignorance. We know all that has befallen 
both Greeks and Trojans by the will of the gods, — yea, 
we know everything that has ever happened in the wide 
world.’ 

The song of the Sirens was so enchanting that it 
went to the heart of Ulysses ; he began to think that 
all Circe had told him of their treachery must be a mis- 
take and a delusion ; and nothing did he desire more 
ardently than to jump from the ship into the sea and 
swim nearer to the nymphs, that he might hear their 
song over and over again. He was now full of regret at 
having caused himself to be bound, and with imploring 
gestures he made signs to his companions to set him 
at liberty ; but two of them fastened the second rope 
round him, tied still more securely than the first, and 
the others row r ed on as fast as they could. Ulysses was 
greatly enraged, but when they had gone so far that the 
song could no longer be heard, he rejoiced that they 
had disobeyed him. It was not until they were at a 
safe distance from the Sirens, that they took the wax 
from their ears and unbound Ulysses. 


50 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER X. 

SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS. 

Almost immediately after this, they saw in the distance 
the terrible Wandering Rocks, which stirred up the 
whole sea by rushing so violently from place to place 
that the danger could not have been greater in the 
most severe storm. When they perceived this, the 
hearts of the rowers sank, and their limbs became 
paralysed with fright. 

They made no effort to escape, but let their oars 
hang idly in the water, whilst the ship was being driven 
nearer and nearer to the fatal rocks. Ulysses however 
knew that their only hope lay in active exertion, and 
going from one to another of the rowers, he bade 
them be of good courage, and said, 6 The danger is not 
greater now than it was when we were in the cave of 
the Cyclops, but even then did I not find a means 
of rescuing you? Follow now, therefore, my advice. 
Pluck up heart again, and by your vigorous rowing with- 
draw the ship from the dangerous current. And thou, 
helmsman, steer the ship away from the smoke and 
noise, and direct its course towards yonder rock.’ 

It was the rock of Scylla, but Ulysses told his com- 
panions nothing of the monster who lurked there, and 


SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS. 


51 


they were so accustomed to find safety in following the 
advice of their leader, that they were now obedient to 
his injunctions, and rowed with all their might towards 
it. Ulysses remembered well what Circe had told him 
of the ghastly toll taken by the monster of every ship 
that passed her, but he still cherished some hope of 
being able nevertheless to save his friends, and he 
seized his weapons in readiness to attack her. 

They were soon in the narrow^ space between Scylla 
and Charybdis, — the two rocks lying only about an 
arrowshot apart. Charybdis was just then occupied in 
sucking in the sea ; the companions of Ulysses turned 
pale at the tremendous spectacle, and he himself could 
not take away his eyes from it. But suddenly he 
heard a cry for help, and looking round, perceived that 
they were at that moment passing the rock of Scylla, 
and that the monster had already seized six of his 
men. He could see them still struggling with their 
arms and feet, and could hear their cries, — but 
it was -only for the moment, for almost immediately 
the monster disappeared with them into her cavern. 
It was the most ghastly sight that Ulysses had ever 
seen. But all that he could do now was to try and 
save the rest ; and when Scylla had hurriedly devoured 
her horrible meal, and again stretched herself out to 
see w r hat more she could seize, the ship was already 

far beyond her reach. 

3 * 


52 


THE WANDEKINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE CATTLE OF HELIOS. 

Ulysses and his men were now approaching the island 
of Thrinacia. This was the pasture of the flocks of the 
sun-god, and while the ship was still far out at sea, 
they could hear the lowing of the cattle, and the bleating 
of the sheep. There were seven flocks of kine and seven 
flocks of sheep ; they were under the care of two of the 
daughters of the sun-god, and like their master were 
immortal ; none of them ever died, neither were there 
ever any young ones added to their number. 

Ulysses remembered the warning of Tiresias that 
misfortune might overtake his companions and himself 
whilst they were on the island, and said to his men, 
4 Let us avoid this island and go on our way without 
landing here, for I have been warned by Tiresias that 
we here stand in danger of meeting with grievous mis- 
fortune.’ 

In reply the men looked at him despondingly, for 
they were weary and exhausted ; and Eurylochus said, 
4 Hardly art thou a creature of flesh and blood, Ulysses ! 
thou seemesfc rather to be made of iron. Thy spirits 
never fail, neither are thy limbs weary. But we are 
faint with long rowing, and sick with the remembrance of 


THE CATTLE OF HELIOS. 


53 


the horrors we have passed through ; wherefore then wilt 
thou hinder us from landing on this island, where we may 
prepare for ourselves a good meal, and enjoy a peaceful 
sleep ? Night, the friend of no man is at hand, — the 
time when storms are wont to arise. Let us therefore 
sleep here as is fitting, and then in the early morning 
we will go on our way refreshed.’ All the men sided 
with Eurylochus, and urged Ulysses not to grudge 
them this short rest. 

4 Against my will ye constrain me,’ he replied , 4 but at 
least swear to me that ye will eat nothing but the food 
with which our ship was stored by Circe, and that if on 
the island we meet with any flock of cattle or of sheep, 
ye will refrain from laying hands on the beasts.’ 

This they promised readily, and then put in to the 
shore ; and after they had partaken of a plentiful meal, 
they stretched themselves on the sand, and went to 
sleep. But towards morning a violent storm arose, 
which covered the sea with great billows ; and they 
were obliged to draw up the ship on to the shore, and 
hide it in a deep cave to protect it from the unfavour- 
able weather. 

Ulysses was much concerned : he feared that if the 
storm should continue, they might be compelled to 
make a long stay upon the island, and that during this 
time his companions might be tempted to break their 
promise, and attack the flocks of Helios. He therefore 
reminded them again that these animals were the 
favourites of the sun-god, who sees and hears every- 
thing that takes place on the earth, and that anyone 
who molested them would have to atone for it with his 
life. The men were astonished that he should think 


54 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


it necessary to say so much about this, — had they not 
abundance of food in their ship ? and was it likely that 
they would be so foolish as to provoke the wrath of 
Helios ? 

But the storm continued for a whole month without 
ceasing, and at last all the provisions were gone. They 
now had nothing to depend upon for their support 
beyond the supplies they were able to procure by 
hunting and fishing, and it was but little that they 
could obtain in this way ; — the storm made it almost 
impossible to fish, and of wild animals there were but few 
on the island, so that from day to day the spoils they 
brought in became less and less, and their hunger 
became greater and greater. 

Ulysses shared in their hunger, but still more did 
he suffer from anxiety lest the calamity of which 
Tiresias had warned him should now be close at hand. 
The only hope of help lay in prayer to the gods, and 
going to a lonely spot, he washed his hands, according 
to the Greek custom, and prayed long and earnestly 
that the gods would point out to him some way of 
escape. Then he stretched himself upon the grass, 
and soon fell into a deep sleep, quite exhausted with 
care and grief. 

Meanwhile his companions were sitting together, sad 
and despondent, for they could see no end to their misery. 
Suddenly Eurylochus rose up, and said, 4 Friends, death 
is terrible in any form, but of all deaths the worst is 
that by hunger. Therefore it is my counsel that we 
slay and eat some of the cattle of Helios. The god 
will surely be satisfied if we vow to make him amends, 
and when we return to Ithaca, we can build a temple 


THE CATTLE OF HELIOS. 


55 


in his honour, and adorn it with great magnificence. 
Even should he, in his anger at this deed, destroy our 
ship when we put to sea again, I for one would rather 
perish by drowning than tarry here to await a slow 
death for lack of food.’ 

These words went to the hearts of the despairing 
men ; they readily assented to the proposal, and spring- 
ing up with one accord, betook themselves to the nearest 
pasture, and drove down three fat bulls to the shore. 

These they proceeded to sacrifice to the gods, and 
as they had no barley with which to bestrew the victims, 
according to the sacred custom, they plucked leaves 
from the trees and threw them over their heads and 
necks whilst the prayer was being said. Then they 
slaughtered the animals, and prepared a meal for gods 
and men. For the gods the thigh-bones were always 
reserved, with the fat and skin belonging to them, and 
some slices of the flesh besides ; this part was laid in 
the sacrificial fire, and then they fell upon the rest with 
the eagerness of starving men. 

When Ulysses awoke, he hastened back to the 
camping-place, but even before he reached it, there 
came to his nostrils the smell of roasted flesh. Nothing 
more was needed to make him aware of what had 
taken place, and sighing deeply, he cried, 6 0 Father 
Zeus, and ye other gods, it is for the undoing of us all 
that ye have caused me to fall into this sleep, during 
which my companions have burdened themselves with 
so heavy a crime ! ’ Bitterly he reproached his friends 
for what they had done; but it was now too late to 
mend the evil. 

The gods immediately manifested their anger by signs 


56 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

that could not be mistaken the skins of the cattle 
which had been flayed, rose up and walked away as if 
they were living animals, and the flesh which was 
being roasted on spits before the fire, bellowed and 
roared. The gods also decided that punishment should 
quickly overtake the guilty men. One of the daughters 
of the sun-god, who had charge of the flocks, had 
ascended to Mount Olympus as soon as the robbery was 
committed, and told her father of the crime. The anger 
of Helios w T as immediately roused, and he said to the 
other gods, ‘The companions of Ulysses have killed my 
cattle, which it has been my delight to look upon as often 
as I have driven across the heavens. They one and all 
deserve death. Promise me that my right shall be 
upheld, or I will go down to the Lower World and hence- 
forth enlighten the Land of the Dead.’ 

To which Zeus made answer, ‘ Shine on, Helios, as of 
yore, in the sight of gods and men ; soon will the ship 
of Ulysses be again in the open sea, and then I will 
send a flash of lightning to destroy it.’ 

The storm continued for six days longer, and during 
that time the companions of Ulysses lived upon the 
cattle of the sun-god. On the seventh day, the weather 
cleared, and they pushed out the ship to sea, and 
left the island. But they made little progress, and 
soon a black angry-looking cloud swept over the sky, 
— the forerunner of a tremendous storm. The ship 
was tossed up and down upon the waves, which rose as 
high as mountains ; and the wind tore violently at the 
ropes and sails. Soon the two ropes which held the 
mast in its place gave way, and it fell upon the helm 
with a crash, killing the steersman and sweeping him 


THE CATTLE OF HELIOS. 


57 


overboard. Then, after a peal of terrific thunder, there 
came a flash of lightning which struck the ship. It went 
reeling over on to its side, and then with a violent lurch 
swung back again, tossing all the companions of Ulysses 
out into the sea ; for a short time they could be seen 
on the surface of the water like so many sea-birds, — 
then they were engulphed by the waves, never to rise 
up again. 


58 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XII. 

• A 

THE ISLAND OF CALYPSO. 

Ulysses alone had been able to keep his hold of the 
ship, but now the planks gave way at the sides, 
and only the keel and the mast still held together. 
Round these he hastily fastened a rope, and seated 
himself astride this rude raft as a rider across his horse. 
He had scarcely done so when the wind turned, and 
before long he found himself again between the two 
perilous rocks through which he had before passed with 
so much risk. 

The current drove him towards Charybdis, who wa^s 
just then engaged in sucking in the sea. The raft was 
hurled rapidly towards her mighty jaws, and it seemed 
that there was now no hope for Ulysses. But just- 
above the opening grew the wild fig-tree of which 
Circe had told him ; its branches hung down almost 
into the water, and Ulysses seized hold of them, and 
remained hanging by his arms to the fig-tree when his 
raft was carried down the throat of Charybdis. A long 
time it seemed to him before the flood was poured 
forth again, for the fatigue of his position was very 
great ; but at last everything was shot out, and Ulysses 
dropped from the fig-tree just as the raft was passing 


THE ISLAND OF CALYPSO. 


59 


under him, and succeeded in getting hold of the rope 
and hauling himself on to it. For nine days and nights 
after this he was tossed about on the sea, but on the 
tenth day the current carried him to some land. 

It was the island of Ogygia, the home of the 
beautiful nymph Calypso. She received Ulysses with 
the utmost kindness, and did everything in her power 
to comfort him and make him forget all the toils and 
privations he had undergone. But notwithstanding 
all this, Ulysses was destined to pass a miserable time 
in her island. Hitherto he had had to encounter 
monsters, men -eaters, and all kinds of horrors and 
perils of the sea, and had barely escaped with his life ; 
now he was secure from violence, but was farther off 
than ever from obtaining the desire of his' heart — 
namely, the power of returning to his home. The love 
of Calypso was as great a hindrance to his happiness as 
the treachery and enmity he had previously met with. 

Calypso lived quite alone on her island, unvisited 
by either gods or men, and now that such a noble- 
looking hero had come to her shores, she was well- 
pleased to have his society, and would not let him leave 
her. She v wanted him to be her husband, and said 
that she would obtain for him from Zeus the gift of 
immortality and perpetual youth, so that they might 
live together throughout all eternity. But the prospect 
had no attraction for Ulysses ; the nymph was indeed 
far more beautiful than Penelope, but nevertheless he 
felt that he would willingly die like other men, if only 
he might first return to his dear wife and much-loved 
son. 

Notwithstanding all his cleverness, Ulysses was 


60 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


unable to devise any means of removing the obstacle 
with which the love of Calypso now blocked his path. 
Flight was impossible, for all round the island stretched 
the desolate sea, and there was no boat of any sort with 
which to make his escape. So one year after another 
passed slowly away. All day long he used to sit on 
the rocks by the sea, gazing in the direction in which 
lay his own island of Ithaca, and happy beyond words 
would he have been, if he could have seen in the 
distance the smoke rising from his home. But he was 
still far away from it, and bitter were the tears that 
fell from his eyes because all prospect of his return 
thither was now cut off from him. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


PENELOPE AND HER SUITORS. 

Meanwhile, in the house of Ulysses at Ithaca, the 
time was passing sorrowfully enough. Twenty years 
had gone by since the departure of Ulysses from the 
island ; and his son Telemachus, who at that time was a 
child in arms, had grown up to be a noble youth. After 
the termination of the war, Queen Penelope constantly 
heard of this or that hero who had arrived home in safety, 
and with patient longing she waited for the return of 
her husband. But year after year passed away, and he 
still remained absent ; she did not know where he was, 
nor even whether he was yet alive, and her hopes sank 
lower and lower. Continually she saw him before her 
eyes as he was in the time when he had made her life 
one perpetual joy, and the memory of those days filled 
her with sorrow, and often brought the tears to her 
eyes. 

She had moreover another source of trouble. 
Everyone thought that Ulysses must certainly have 
perished, and all the noblest youths in Ithaca and 
the neighbourhood cherished the hope that the queen 
might take one of them as her second husband. 
They came therefore to sue for her, but not, as was 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


-xen the custom, by going to her father and offering 
him costly gifts in return for the hand of his daughter ; 
— instead of this, they came to her palace in crowds, 
more than a hundred of them at once, and there they 
feasted every day, consuming the goods of Ulysses, and 
endeavouring to compel her to make choice of one of 
them. 

Penelope was sorely perplexed, but at last she hit 
upon a device by which to keep them off for a time. 
She set up a great loom in her room, and said to them, 
‘ Ye suitors, press me not to choose between you until 
I have woven a shroud for the aged father of my beloved 
Ulysses, for ill should I be spoken of amongst women 
if I allowed the old man to be laid on his funeral pyre 
without a shroud woven by my hands.’ 

The suitors agreed to this, and every day Penelope 
worked industriously at the great sheet ; but in the 
night she always got up, lighted a torch, and undid all 
the work of the previous day. For three years she 
contrived in this way to keep the suitors at a distance, 
but at last she was betrayed by one of her waiting- 
women; — the suitors came one night and surprised 
her in the act of undoing her work, and after this she 
was obliged to go straight on with it until it was quite 
finished. 

Then the stormy wooing began again, and Penelope 
did not know what to do. Long ago, when Ulysses 
was bidding her farewell, he had taken her kindly by 
the hand and said to her, 4 Not all of us will return 
from this war, for the Trojans, they say, are well 
skilled in the art of battle. I know not therefore 
whether the gods will keep me alive, or whether I may 


PENELOPE AND HER SUITORS. 


63 


not rather fall before Troy. Do thou take care of this 
our house, and be kind as thou hast ever been- — or, if 
it is possible, kinder still — to my old father and 
mother; and when our son is grown up, then if thou 
wilt, do thou marry, and bring home thy new husband 
to this house.’ 

Thus had Ulysses spoken. Telemachus was now 
grown up, and able himself to manage the house and 
estate of his father ; and if she remained in the house, 
it was certain that the suitors would dissipate more 
and more the inheritance which ought to be his. It 
seemed that the only way of ridding the house of this 
crowd of unwelcome visitors was for her to do violence 
to her feelings, and take one of them for her husband. 


64 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

TELEMACHUS AND HIS GUEST. 

Telemachus resembled his father, not only in outward 
appearance, but also in his friendly disposition and 
kindness of heart ; it would have been a happiness to 
any brave man to have him for his son. Only in one 
respect was it apparent that he had not grown up 
under the eye of his father : — for any dangerous 
expedition he had courage in abundance, and in battle 
he was as good as any man, but in every-day life he 
was bashful, and felt more like a boy than a man. If 
he was treated badly, he felt it deeply, but he did not 
know how to take such a decided tone as to teach the 
offender that he had better be careful not to injure 
him or his for the future. From the example and 
training of his father, he would have learnt this with- 
out difficulty, but of Ulysses he knew nothing but 
what his mother had been able to tell him. Therefore 
the goddess Athene, who was the protector of Ulysses, 
and extended her care to all that belonged to him, 
resolved to take his place, and teach Telemachus how 
to get rid of his timidity. 

One day the suitors were assembled as usual in 
the palace of Ulysses. The heralds and servants were 


TELEMACHUS AND HIS GUEST. 


65 


making preparations for the midday meal, — cleansing 
the tables with wet sponges, and mixing the wine and 
water in great vessels ; and the suitors were lying 
stretched on the skins of cattle in the court-yard, 
passing the time in playing games. Telemachus was 
with them, but he took no part in the games, for he 
was filled with sad thoughts about his father. 

Just then, there appeared a stranger at the door of 
the court -yard, which led into the street ; it was the 
goddess Athene- in the form of a man, who stood there 
waiting for an invitation to enter. Telemachus 
hastened to meet her, and took from her the spear she 
held in her hand. ‘Be welcome, stranger,’ said he, 
4 to the best we have to offer thee,’ and he led her into 
the hall to a seat a little apart from the rest, and bade 
them set food and wine before her. The suitors fol- 
lowed, and the meal began. 

In those days, the customs with regard to eating 
were different from those which are usual now. 
Knives and forks were not yet invented, and all food 
had to be carried in the fingers to the mouth. Before 
the meal, therefore, the servants used to carry round a 
jug of water and a basin, and each guest held his 
hands above the basin whilst water was poured over 
them; in the same manner, too, they washed their 
fingers when the meal was over. Also, they did not 
sit, as we do, at one long table, but there were many 
little tables at which the guests sat separately, or, at 
the most, two together. 

When the guests were seated and had washed their 
hands, the servants placed baskets of bread upon the 
tables ; then a platter of meat was carried round, and 


66 


THE WANDEKINGS OF ULYSSES. 


a portion placed before each guest, — spoons were as 
unknown as knives or forks. During the meal, heralds 
went round, filling up the cups with wine as often as 
they were emptied. 

The suitors laughed and made a great noise all 
through the meal, and when they had eaten and drunk 
as much as they wished, they called for the old singer 
Phemius to come and sing to them. Telemachus sat 
apart with his guest, and said, pointing to the suitors, 
‘ They live here merrily enough, at .no expense to 
themselves. But if my father were to come home, 
their mirth would soon be at an end. Unhappily, 
however, they are safe from him ; — his bones lie 
bleaching somewhere in the sun, or else he has been 
engulphed by the sea. But tell me thy name and the 
place of thy birth, and also why thou art come to 
Ithaca. Art thou the first of thy family who has 
entered our house as a guest ? or was there already in 
the time of my father a friendship between your people 
and ourselves ? ’ 

6 My name is Mentes,’ replied Athene, 6 and I bear 
rule among the Taphians. I sail over the sea to seek 
for iron in exchange for copper which I bring with me ; 
my ship is now on the shore at a little distance from 
the city. Enquire of thy grandfather, and he will tell 
thee that we have long been friends of his house. Now 
have I come hither because they told me that thy 
father had already returned. But even though this is 
not the case, do not yet give up all hope. The gods 
may have delayed his coming, but that he is dead, that 
I cannot believe. He must have fallen among enemies 
who will not allow him to depart, but he is cunning 


TELEMACHUS AND HIS GUEST. 


67 


enough, and will surely find some way of getting free. 
But .tell me, who are these men who feast in thy house, 
and play the lord here ? ’ 

6 Alas ! ’ said Telemachus, c they are a grievous 
plague, these suitors of my mother, who come here 
every day and consume my goods. Thou seest how 
many they are.’ 

4 They are bold men,’ replied Athene, c for when 
Ulysses returns, he will pay them dearly for their 
wooing — it will cost them no less than their life. But 
follow my advice. To-morrow morning, call together the 
citizens, and demand of them that they make a clearance 
of the suitors from thy house. Then make ready a ship, 
and sail to the neighbouring countries to see if thou 
canst hear any tidings of thy father. First go to Pylos 
to the wise Nestor, and then to King Menelaiis who 
has recently returned to Sparta. If thou hearest that 
Ulysses is believed to be alive and on his homeward 
journey, then wait in patience a little longer; but 
if on the contrary they tell thee that he is dead, 
raise thou to his memory a mound of earth, and con- 
sider how, by cunning or by force, thou canst compass 
the destruction of the shameless suitors. And now 
farewell, for I must return to my ship and my comrades. 
Consider well my counsel.’ 

‘ Thou hast indeed spoken to me as a father,’ said 
Telemachus, trying to detain his guest, 4 and I will not 
forget thy counsel. But remain a little longer, and 
return not to thy ship without a stranger’s present.’ 

4 1 cannot now linger,’ replied Athene, 4 but on my 
return journey I will again visit thee, and will fetch the 
present which thou offerest me.’ With these words she 
4 


68 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


departed, and as soon as she had left the house, she 
disappeared, leaving no trace behind her. 

Telemachus was much astonished at what had 
happened, but still more was he surprised at finding 
himself suddenly filled with new courage and resolu- 
tion ; Athene had imparted to him a self-confidence he 
had never known before, and Telemachus could only 
suppose that the stranger must have been a god. 

Meanwhile the suitors were still listening to 
Phemius, who was singing of the return of the 
Greeks from Troy, and how with some it had fared 
well and with others ill. In the upper chamber, where 
she usually remained, Queen Penelope heard the soDg, 
and was deeply moved. She came down stairs to the 
hall, accompanied by two of her maidens, and standing 
in the doorway, she said to Phemius with tears in her 
eyes, 4 Phemius, thou who knowest how to celebrate in 
song so many deeds of gods and men, why dost thou 
choose to sing of the wretched war which has caused 
me such bitter sorrow ? ’ 

Just then Telemachus came back, and stepping 
between them, he said, 6 Dear mother, let the singer 
sing that to which his heart inclines him ; it is not him- 
self who chooses the song, but Zeus who puts it into his 
mouth. Moreover, men love to hear that which is the 
newest thing. Control thyself, therefore, and listen to it 
patiently ; Ulysses is not the only one whose home- 
coming has been delayed, for many others have shared 
the same fate.’ 

Penelope was astonished at hearing her son speak so 
decidedly, for till now, in his timidity, he had let every- 
thing go its own way; and without a word she returned 
to her chamber. 


TELEMACHUS AND HIS GUEST. 


69 


One of the most presumptuous of the suitors was 
Eurymachus. He now approached Telemachus, and 
said, 6 Who was then the stranger who so quickly went 
on his way? Whence came he, and on what errand? 
Brought he any tidings of thy father ? His appearance 
proclaimed him a man of no mean birth.’ 

Telemachus replied, ‘ From my father, alas ! I look 
no longer for any re-assuring message. The stranger 
was an ancient friend of our house, Mentes, a ruler 
among the Taphians.’ Thus he answered Eurymachus, 
but in his heart he thought otherwise. 

Till evening, the suitors amused themselves with 
feasting, singing and dancing ; then they left the palace 
and went away for the night. Telemachus also went 
to his sleeping-chamber, and according to her usual 
custom, his old nurse, Eurycleia, came with two torches 
to light him to his room. Every night she came, and 
also returned after he had laid himself down, to fetch 
his clothes, and shake the dust from them. This even- 
ing she did for him as was her wont, but when she was 
gone, Telemachus did not as usual fall asleep ; the whole 
night long he lay awake, busily occupied in thinking 
of what he should do on the following day, and how he 
should speak to the people. 


70 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XV. 

TELEMACHUS ASSEMBLES THE CITIZENS. 

The next morning, Telemachus sent heralds through 
the streets to summon the people to assemble in the 
market-place. The citizens were astonished, for it was 
long since there had been any such summons, and 
they came in great numbers to the place of meeting. 
Telemachus, with a spear in his hand, and accom- 
panied by two favourite dogs, appeared among the rest, 
and seated himself on a great stone bench in the form 
of a semicircle, which was reserved for the most dis- 
tinguished persons. Here his father had in old times 
been accustomed to sit, and the other men willingly 
made room for him. 

The first to rise was an old man whose son had 
gone with Ulysses to the war, and who was still waiting 
and watching for the return of this much-loved son, 
not knowing that he had been devoured by the Cyclops, 
Polyphemus. He said to the citizens, ‘By whom, I 
would ask, has this assembly been summoned? It is 
now many years since we ha^p thus met together. Is 
it perchance that some news has been received of our 
friends who sailed away with Ulysses ? or is there 
one of the citizens who desires to confer about some 


TELEMACHUS ASSEMBLES THE CITIZENS. 71 

matter that concerns us all ? I praise him for calling 
this assembly, and may Zeus prosper him in his 
purpose ! ’ 

Telemachus rejoiced at hearing this good wish, and 
said, 4 If is I who have called the citizens together. 
Of our friends, alas ! I have heard nothing, but I wish 
to speak of our own affairs. Citizens, ye know, all of 
you, what a heavy grief to me is the loss of my noble 
father, — and besides this, another trouble weighs upon 
me, of which also ye are not ignorant. Ye know how 
many suitors there are who importune my mother; 
instead of going to her father to sue for her, they come 
to our house. Every day they come, and they kill 
cattle, sheep and swine for their feasts, and drink their 
fill of wine, — thus consuming our goods. Now I en- 
treat you, take this matter into your hands, and free me 
from these suitors, lest haply the gods should punish 
their evil deeds by bringing some calamity upon the 
city.’ As he spoke, the tears burst from his eyes, and 
he dashed his spear to the ground with violence. 

The citizens felt that Telemachus was right, and 
that it was their duty to put an end to the scandal, but 
nevertheless they remained silent, for they were afraid 
of the suitors and their noble relatives, and left it to 
Antinoiis, one of the most forward of the suitors, to 
reply. 

4 It is not we who are in fault,’ he said insolently, 
4 but thy mother. For four years she has kept us 
waiting, and will not choose one of us for her husband. 
This advice only we give thee, — to send thy mother 
away out of thy house. So long as she is there, will we 
come every day and feast at thy expense.’ 


72 


THE WANDEKINGS OF ULYSSES. 


‘ How shall I, against her will, send away my 
mother,’ answered Telemachus, 4 who has taken care 
of me all through my childhood? The gods would 
punish me, and my name would become a by-word. 
If then, instead of going from one house to another 
among yourselves to hold your feasts, ye persist in 
coming every day unasked to consume my goods, con- 
tinue to do so. But I call upon Zeus to punish you, 
and I pray that in the house where ye now riot, ye may 
soon meet with your destruction.’ 

He had hardly spoken when two eagles were seen 
hying towards the spot from the neighbouring moun- 
tains. At first they flew peacefully side by side, but 
when they were just above the assembly, they suddenly 
became savage and attacked one another violently, 
pecking and tearing with bills and claws ; then they 
disappeared, and flew away from the city towards the 
right. In those days the flight and actions of birds 
were carefully observed, as it was believed that by this 
means the will of the gods could be discovered ; and 
on this occasion, everyone in the assembly was struck 
with awe, and watched the birds with rapt attention, 
thinking that their quarrel must have some special 
signification. 

The silence was broken by the aged Halitherses, who 
said, ‘What we have just seen is a token sent by the 
gods. Listen to me, ye citizens, and above all, ye 
suitors, for a great calamity is hanging over your heads. 
Ulysses will not much longer remain away from his 
home; already perchance he is near, and planning 
revenge upon the suitors. For this reason it is not 
well that ye others should look on quietly while the 


TELEMACHUS ASSEMBLES THE CITIZENS. 73 

suitors outrage the house of Ulysses ; for you also, evil 
days may be at hand. Long ago, when Ulysses went 
to the war, I foretold that in the twentieth year he 
would return, after many sufferings and having lost all 
his companions, alone, and unknown to all. This is 
now the twentieth year, and these things will shortly 
come to pass.’ 

The suitors were unwilling to believe this prophecy, 
and Eurymachus spoke roughly to the aged seer. 4 If 
thou must prophesy,’ he cried, 4 do it at home, amongst 
thy children, to whom thy foolish words can do no 
harm. It is not every bird that flies across the heaven 
which brings a message from the gods. Ulysses has 
perished long ago, and I would thou hadst shared his 
fate, then wmildst thou not have been here to stir up 
Telemachus against us, in the hope of getting a present 
from him. But I tell thee that if thou shouldst do 
this a second time, it will be the worse for thee, and 
not light will be the consequences. We fear no man, 
and we are resolved to consume the goods of Telemachus 
until his mother shall choose a husband from among 
us.’ 

There was also in the assembly a man greatly 
esteemed by the citizens, Mentor by name ; he was an 
old friend of Ulysses, and to him Ulysses at his 
departure had confided the care of his property. 
Mentor would not allow himself to be intimidated by 
the threats of the suitors from reproaching the citizens 
for their apathy. 4 In future,’ he said, 4 no king will 
be kind and friendly towards his people, but harsh and 
severe ; for which of you gives any sign of remember- 
ing the fatherly rule of Ulysses? With the suitors 


74 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

I do not find fault, for if they plunder the house of 
Ulysses, at least they do so at the risk of their lives. 
But you I blame, in that ye remain quiet while these 
things take pla’ce, for ye are the many, and the few ye 
could easily control if ye would.’ 

At this a third suitor stepped forward, who said, 

6 What folly is this that thou speakest ? Knowest thou 
not that when it is a question of eating and drinking, 
one man can defend himself against many ? Even if 
Ulysses were to return and attempt to drive the suitors 
from his house, he would certainly perish in the 
struggle.’ 

By this time it was evident to Telemachus that no 
assistance w T as to be looked for from the people, and he 
therefore requested that they would give him a ship 
and twenty rowers, to enable him to go to Sparta and 
Pylos to seek for tidings of Ulysses. This plan did not 
by any means commend itself to the suitors, for they 
were afraid that he might obtain reinforcements from 
these powerful friends of his father, or at all events be 
encouraged to make some further attempt to get rid of 
them. They did not however wish to oppose him 
openly in the matter, so they cut short the discussion 
by saying in a scornful tone that Halitherses and 
Mentor could surely provide him with a ship, and 
proceeded to break up the assembly, — the people being 
afraid to offer any resistance to their wishes. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE DEPARTURE OF TELEMACHUS. 

With a heart full of trouble, Telemachus went down 
to a solitary place on the shore, and when he had 
washed his hands in the sea, he prayed, saying, 4 Hear 
me, 0 thou who didst yesterday encourage me to go to 
Pylos and to Sparta! In vain have been my efforts, 
for I have been thwarted by the suitors.’ 

Scarcely had he spoken these words, when Mentor, 
the friend of his father, came towards him with a 
friendly countenance : — that is to say, the appearance 
was that of Mentor, but in reality it was Athene who 
came to his help. 4 Free thyself from care,’ she said. 
4 1 will provide thee with a suitable vessel, ready- 
manned, and will also accompany thee on thy journey. 
Go to thy home, and bid them give thee food and wine, 
as much as will be needed.-’ 

Telemachus hastened home, and went at once to 
the store-chamber. It was under the charge of the 
old nurse Eurycleia, and in it were heaps of gold and 
silver, clothes in abundance laid by in wooden chests, 
jars of sweetly scented oil standing side by side, and 
all round the wall, great earthen vessels full of wine. 
4 Mother,’ said Telemachus to the old woman, 4 fill me 
4 * 


76 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


some jars of sweet wine, of the best next to that which 
thou holdest in reserve for Ulysses. Fill twelve of the 
jars that have handles, and close them up with tightly 
fitting stoppers. Pour also twelve measures of barley 
into leather bags, and place all together. In the even- 
ing, when my mother has gone to bed, I will return 
and fetch them, for I am going to Pylos and to Sparta 
to seek for tidings of Ulysses.’ 

Eurycleia was frightened, and exclaimed, sobbing, 
‘ How came this into thy mind ? Art thou, the only 
comfort of thy mother, about to sail alone over the 
wide sea ? Ulysses is certainly dead ; in some strange 
land he has perished, far away from his home ; and 
now the suitors will lay snares for thee also, and kill 
thee by craft. Nay, trust not thyself upon the 
treacherous sea ! ’ 

Telemachus answered her with reassuring words. 
‘ Be not fearful, mother,’ he said, 6 for the gods are 
gracious to me, and have put this into my mind. 
Swear to me that thou wilt not tell my mother of my 
journey until I have been gone ten or twelve days, 
unless she should enquire concerning me, for I would 
not add to her sorrow.’ Eurycleia swore to do as 
Telemachus wished, and busied herself in preparing 
everything that he required. 

Meanwhile, Athene, in the form of Mentor, went 
through the city, and wherever she met with a strong- 
looking youth, she invited him to join the expedition 
of Telemachus, and to meet the rest at the harbour at 
sun-down. Then she went to a wealthy citizen, 
Noemon by name, and begged him to supply Tele- 
machus with a ship. To this Noemon willingly agreed, 


THE DEPARTURE OF TELEMACHUS. 


77 


and soon the ship was pushed out to sea, with rudder, 
sails and everything else, complete. 

When it was dark and the suitors had all gone 
away, Telemachus brought some of the men to his 
house to carry away the provisions. This they did 
with all secrecy, and then Athene and Telemachus, 
followed by the crew, entered the ship, and sailed 
away. 

Athene sat at the helm, and Telemachus next to 
her. A favourable wind filled the sails, and the ship 
sped fast on its way. There was no need for toilsome 
rowing ; the ship-men set the sails in order, and then 
sat round the great drinking-vessel, which was filled 
with wine to the brim. Thus they spent the beautiful 
night in merriment and good fellowship, and many 
drink-offerings they poured out to the gods, but most 
of all to the goddess Athene. 


78 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTEB XVII. 

THE FEAST AT PYLOS. 

The sun had not long risen when the ship reached 
Pylos, and Athene and Telemachus at once landed, 
leaving their companions on board. It happened to 
be a feast-day, and the aged king and his people were 
offering a great sacrifice to Poseidon. Thousands of 
citizens were assembled on the sea-shore, and lay 
stretched out on the sand, eating the flesh of the 
animals that had been sacrificed, while the heralds 
passed up and down among them, filling up the cups 
with wine. 

As they were going towards the place of sacrifice, 
Telemachus was filled with confusion at the thought of 
having to address the king, and he said to Athene, 
4 How shall I make known my errand ? In measured 
speech I am not practised, and good cause has a youth 
to feel embarrassed when he is about to address himself 
to an older man.’ 

But Athene encouraged him. 4 Forget thy timidity,’ 
she said, 4 and remember that thou art come hither for 
no other purpose than to enquire of Nestor about thy 
father. Much of what thou shouldst say will of itself 
occur to thee, and the rest will be put into thy mouth 
by the gods, for I am sure that they wish thee well.’ 


THE FEAST AT PYLOS. 


79 


When the sons of Nestor saw the two strangers 
approaching, they advanced to meet them, and Pisis- 
tratus, who was the youngest, led them to the place 
where his father was sitting. Here they found skins 
spread out upon the sand, and when they had seated 
themselves, Pisistratus handed to Athene a cup of wine, 
saying, 4 Stranger, make thy prayer to Poseidon, for it 
is in his honour that we hold our feast to-day. And 
when thou hast prayed, and hast poured out a drink- 
offering, pass the cup to thy companion that he may do 
likewise, for we all stand in need of the help of the gods.’ 

Then Athene prayed aloud, and said, 4 Hear me, 
great Poseidon, and fulfil my desire ! Grant to Nestor 
and his sons great renown, and do thou recompense all 
the men of Pylos for the sacrifices which to-day they 
offer, thee. Grant also that we may prosper in the 
purpose for which we are come hither.’ Thus she 
prayed, meaning herself to accomplish all that she 
had asked from Poseidon. Then she handed the cup 
to Telemachus, who prayed in like manner. 

When they had finished eating and drinking, Nestor 
said, 4 Now has the time come to enquire of our guests 
concerning their name and the place of their birth. 
Tell us, therefore, who ye are, and what has brought 
you hither.’ 

At these words Telemachus summoned his courage, 
and with an effort replied, 4 We come from Ithaca. 
The son of Ulysses am I. Of my unhappy father we have 
no tidings, and we know not whether he is alive or 
dead. Therefore I pray thee, tell me what thou canst 
concerning him. Even if the tale be sad, I entreat 
thee, by all the love which thou didst bear to my father 


80 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


when ye were fighting together before Troy, that thou 
hide nothing from me.’ 

4 My son,' replied Nestor, 4 when the war was over, we 
divided into two bands, — the one followed Menelaus, 
and the other Agamemnon. Thus w r ere we parted, thy 
father and I, and since then have I heard nothing of 
him. But thou bringest to my memory the countless 
toils and dangers which in that land we passed through. 
Yea, often it went hard with us, and many of our 
bravest were snatched away by death. The brave 
Ajax, and Achilles, and his friend Patroclus, and my 
dear son Antilochus, all lie buried there in foreign soil. 
Afterwards also, when the war was over, many of our 
heroes perished. To me indeed the gods granted a 
speedy return, but others have wandered, some for a 
longer, others for a shorter time, before reaching their 
homes. Of many have I heard, here in Pylos, how it 
has fared with them, though not of all . Of the fate 
of Agamemnon I am not ignorant. He was slain by 
the hand of Aegisthus, — but now his son Orestes has 
avenged him by slaying the murderer. . Good indeed 
it is for a man to leave behind him a brave son.’ 

4 Alas ! ’ replied Telemachus despondingly, 4 would 
that the gods had granted me strength to punish the 
insolent suitors in our house. But that has not been 
so, and I must endure their violence with what patience 
I can.’ 

4 1 have heard,’ answered Nestor, 4 of the unseemly 
manner in which the suitors besiege thy house. l"et 
if Athene loves thee as she loved thy father, whom she 
so often helped openly when we were fighting against 
Troy, many a suitor will yet have cause to regret that 


THE FEAST AT PYLOS. 


81 


he has joined the band of evil-doers. And perhaps 
— who can tell ? — thy father himself may yet return to 
his home.’ 

With a heart full of despair, Telemachus answered, 
c 0 king, how should such good fortune come to me ? 
That is more than I dare to hope for. It hardly 
could be possible, even should the gods themselves 
will it.’ 

But Athene blamed him, saying, 4 What words are 
these, Telemachus ? A god, if he will, can easily 
deliver, even in the greatest extremity. Far rather 
would I, for my part, spend long years in banishment 
like thy father, and have at last a prosperous home- 
coming, than, like Agamemnon, return speedily to be 
slain at a banquet.’ 

Telemachus then proceeded to make further en- 
quiries of Nestor. 4 But where,’ he asked, 4 was Menelaiis 
when the murder of his brother took place ? ’ 

4 In a distant land was Menelaiis,’ replied Nestor. 
4 Had he on his return home found the treacherous 
Aegisthus still alive, thou mayest well believe that no 
mound of earth would have covered his dead body; 
his corpse would have been thrown to the dogs to 
devour. But Menelaiis was driven by storms far away 
from his home, — as far as Egypt and other strange lands, 
from which it would take a bird longer than a year to 
fly to the land of Greece, — and thus Aegisthus was left 
for many years to enjoy the fruits of his crime. 

4 When Agamemnon went away to Troy, he entrusted 
to a faithful minstrel the care of his house and his wife, 
fearing lest she might be led away by the flattery of 


82 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


Aegisthus. But when through weakness she yielded, 
and became the wife of that traitor, the faithful singer 
was sent away to a solitary island, where he died, and 
his corpse was devoured by birds. And so great was 
the influence which Aegisthus had gained over the 
queen, that she consented willingly to the murder of 
her husband when he returned from the war. After the 
crime was committed, Aegisthus ruled for seven years 
over the dominions of Agamemnon. But the young 
Orestes had been conveyed by friends of his father to 
Athens, where he was safe from the murderous hands 
of Aegisthus, and in the eighth year he returned and 
slew him, — his mother being already dead. That very 
same day, Menelaiis at last reached his home, and 
grieved that he had arrived too late to accomplish the 
revenge with his own hands. 

4 But to thee, it is my counsel that thou do not long 
remain away, leaving thy mother and thy household in 
the hands of the suitors. Y"et must thou not fail to 
go to Menelaiis. He has lately returned from his far 
journey, and may be able to give thee tidings of thy 
father. Sail therefore to Sparta without any great 
delay, or if thou wilt rather go by land, I will gladly 
supply thee with horses and a chariot, and one of my 
sons shall go with thee.’ 

When the sun was about to set, Athene reminded 
Nestor that it was time to bring the sacrificial feast to 
a conclusion, for it was considered profane to continue 
till darkness had overspread the earth. The last 
ceremonies were therefore performed: — water was 
poured by heralds over the hands of the guests, wine 
was again mixed, and the cups replenished; and lastly, 


THE FEAST AT PYLOS. 


83 


while a prayer was offered up to Poseidon and the 
other gods, the tongues of the animals that had been 
sacrificed were laid in the flames and sprinkled with 
drops of wine by the king and his sons. Then the 
feast was at an end, and the people began to disperse. 


84 


THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES 


CHAPTER XVII L 

THE SACRIFICE TO ATHENE. 

Telemachus and Athene were now about to return to 
their ship, but Nestor said, 4 Zeus and the other gods 
forbid that I should let you go to your ship as if I 
were a poor man and had not coverings enough to pro- 
vide a comfortable bed for my guests ! While I live 
and have the power of entertaining strangers in my 
house, I cannot permit the beloved son of my brave 
Ulysses to sleep on board his ship.’ 

4 Well hast thou spoken, thou noble old man,’ re- 
plied Athene. 4 Telemachus shall do thy bidding, and 
follow thee to thy house as thy guest. But I will go 
to the ship and see that everything is in order, for the 
crew are all young fellows ; I am the one elderly man 
among them. There will I sleep, and early in the 
morning I will go on my way to the Caucones, where I 
have a debt that I must reclaim.’ 

With these words Athene turned to depart, but 
suddenly they saw, instead of her, a sea-eagle which 
flew up rapidly towards the heaven. All were filled 
with amazement, and Nestor grasped the hand of 
Telemachus, saying , 4 Beloved friend, thou hast a mighty 
future before thee, who even in thy youth art honoured 


THE SACRIFICE TO ATHENE. 


85 


by the presence of the gods. This was no other than 
Athene the daughter of Zeus, who ever protected thy 
father in the battle. 0 be gracious to me also, great 
goddess, to me and to my sons, and to my honoured 
wife ! To-morrow will I sacrifice to thee a cow that 
has never been yoked in the plough, and will deck her 
horns with gold.’ 

Then they all made their way to the city and re- 
tired to rest, — Telemachus sleeping with Pisistratus, 
the youngest of the king’s sons, in the open porch in 
front of the palace. 

The next morning Nestor rose at dawn of day, and 
seated himself on a shining stone bench in front of the 
house ; presently his sons gathered round him, and 
lastly came Telemachus and Pisistratus. When they 
were all assembled, Nestor began to prepare for the 
sacrifice. One of the sons was sent to the herdsman 
who was to supply the cow, and another to the ship of 
Telemachus to invite his companions to the feast, — all 
of them but two who had to remain in charge of the 
vessel. A third son went to summon the smith to 
come and cover the horns of the cow with gold, and 
a fourth directed the women-servants of the house to 
bring wood and water into the court-yard for the 
sacrifice. 

Before long, the cow was brought in by the herds- 
man ; then came the companions of Ulysses, and lastly 
the smith arrived with his hammer, tongs and anvil. 
Nestor gave him as much gold as was needed, and he 
fastened it round the horns. The cow was led into 
the middle of the court-yard, and beside her stood one 
of the king’s sons with a basin of water for washing. 


86 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


and a dish of barley in his hands ; another son held a 
sharp axe, which was to be used for felling the animal 
to the ground. 

Then the venerable Nestor stepped forward. First 
washing his hands, he strewed some barley-corns 
upon the cow’s head between her horns ; and then, 
while a prayer was repeated, he cut off some of the 
hairs from her forehead, and threw them into the sacri- 
ficial flame. At the same moment the cow sank to her 
knees under a mighty blow from the axe, and when 
she had bled to death, they cut up the flesh in pieces. 
The thigh-bones were first separated, surrounded with 
a double portion of fat, and laid in the flame for the 
goddess with some slices of the flesh, and Nestor also 
poured in wine over them from time to time. 

After this, the heart, the liver and the lungs of the 
animal were roasted before the fire on five-pronged 
forks by some youths who were standing by, and passed 
round to be tasted by the guests. The regular feast 
did not begin as yet, but when the greater part of the 
flesh had been roasted in a similar manner, all seated 
themselves at the tables ; a portion of the flesh was 
placed before each guest, and the cups were filled 
with wine by the heralds who went round performing 
this duty. 

When the feast was over, Nestor desired them to 
make ready the chariot for Telemachus, and said that 
Pisistratus should go with him to Sparta. 

The house-dame brought out bread, meat and 
wine, and placed them in the chariot as provisions for 
the way, and then the two youths mounted the chariot. 
Pisistratus took the reins, and the horses started off at 


THE SACRIFICE TO ATHENE. 


87 


a quick pace. Before dark they had reached the house 
of a friend of Nestor’s, where they passed the night, 
continuing their journey the next day, until they found 
themselves at Sparta and approaching the palace of 
King Menelaiis. 


88 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

TELEMACHUS IS RECEIVED BY MENELAUS AND HELEN. 

At Sparta also it happened that Teiemachus arrived 
just when a feast was taking place. The king was 
celebrating the marriage of his two children ; the son 
had chosen a Spartan maiden for his bride, and the 
daughter was wedded to Neoptolemus the son of 
Achilles. 

When the two strangers drew up their chariot in 
front of the open door of the palace, the relatives and 
friends w T ere already assembled at the wedding feast, 
and one of the king’s companions said to him, 4 Shall I 
invite the two strangers whom I see arriving, into thy 
house ? or shall I direct them to seek for shelter else- 
where in the city ? ’ 

4 How canst thou ask such a foolish question ? ’ 
replied Menelaiis, looking at him with astonishment 
and indignation. 4 Where is the man who more often 
than myself has been entertained with kindness and 
hospitality by strangers in strange lands, or to whom 
it would be a greater disgrace to turn away the guests 
that come to his door ? Bid them unharness the horses, 
and ask the strangers to come in.’ 

The companion conducted Teiemachus and Pisis- 


TELEMACHUS EECEIVED BY MENELAUS AND HELEN. 89 

tratus into the hall, and much they marvelled as they 
looked round upon the shining walls. They were first 
refreshed with a warm bath, and then invited to seat 
themselves at the table, and partake of the banquet. 
Menelaiis gave them a hearty welcome, and pressed 
them to eat ; he even with his own hands passed over 
to them a part of the ox chine which had been placed 
before himself as the best portion. 

Telemachus bent towards Pisistratus, and said to him 
in a low voice, 4 See, Pisistratus, how the walls glitter 
with gold and silver and ivory ; it is as if one were 
looking at the sun or the moon. The hall of Zeus 
himself cannot be more beautiful.’ 

Menelaiis, who had overheard him, turned towards 
him with a smile. 4 Pear youths,’ he said, 4 what mortal 
can be compared to Zeus? But whether any other 
man lives in the midst of such splendour as myself I 
know not, for I have travelled about much in the world, 
and many rich presents have I brought home with me. 
Yet have I but little pleasure in them, for while I was 
wandering in strange lands my brother was slain by 
treachery, and many of my dear friends have also died. 
How willingly would I content myself with a third of 
my treasures, if those brave men were but alive ! Often 
I think of them with tears in my eyes, and for none 
do I grieve more than for my beloved Ulysses ; when I 
think of him, it takes from me all enjoyment of food or 
of sleep. He alas ! has never returned to his home, and 
who knows whether he is yet alive ? How sadly must 
his aged father mourn for him, and his wife also, and 
Telemachus his dear son ! ’ 

When Telemachus heard the king speak thus of his 


90 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


father, the tears rose to his eyes, and he held his 
mantle before his face that he might weep in secret. 
Menelaiis observed him, and was going to ask him his 
name, but just then his wife Helen entered the hall. 
She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and 
for her sake many heroes had perished on both sides in 
the great war of Troy. She was accompanied by a 
number of waiting* women, one of whom carried a 
beautifully wrought chair, and another a white cover- 
ing for the chair; a third held a silver basket with 
wool in it, — a lovely present that had been made to 
the queen when she was in Egypt — and also a golden 
spindle for her work. 

When Helen had seated herself, she said to Mene- 
laiis , 4 Do we know as yet the names of our guests ? One 
of them I think I can recognise. It must be Tele- 
machus, the son of Ulysses, for never have I seen so 
striking a likeness as the resemblance he bears to that 
noble hero/ 

4 Now I also perceive it,’ cried Menelaiis. 4 Just 
so were the feet and hands of Ulysses, and the 
glances of his eye, and also his head and hair. And 
when I spoke just now of Ulysses, the youth was moved 
to tears.’ 

Then Pisistratus said, 4 Thou art right ; it is indeed 
Telemachus. In his modesty, he did not venture to 
address thee, the man like unto the gods, seeing that 
this is the first time he has entered thy house. But it 
is on purpose to seek thee that he has come hither, 
and my father Nestor sent me to accompany him on 
his journey.’ 

At hearing this, Menelaiis was greatly moved, and 


TELEMACHUS RECEIVED BY MENELAUS AND HELEN. 91 

he said, 4 There abides then under my roof the son of 
the man whom, of all the heroes that joined the war, I 
have loved the most. How often did I rejoice at the 
thought that when we reached home in safety, I would 
induce Ulysses to come and settle in my neighbourhood 
with all his household ! Here would I have placed a 
village at his disposal, that I might often enjoy the 
society of my trusted friend — and then nothing could 
have marred our love and our happiness but the black 
cloud of death. But the gods, alas ! have been un- 
willing that our cup of joy should be filled so full, and 
have cut off his return.’ 

Then were they all very sorrowful ; Helen wept, 
and Telemachus and Menelaus, and Pisistratus thought 
of his brother Antilochus who had fallen in the war, 
and wept also. But presently Helen fetched a charm, 
called Forgetfulness of Grief, which had once been given 
her by an Egyptian woman, and threw it into the 
goblet of wine. Whoever drank of that draught might 
lose his father and mother, yea, he might see his son or 
his brother murdered before his very eyes, yet for a 
whole day would he feel no sorrow. 

When everyone had become cheerful again, Helen 
related an instance of the courage and coolness of 
Ulysses during the siege. 4 One day,’ she said , 4 Ulysses 
scourged his back until it was covered with blood ; then 
he put on a beggar’s dress and stole into the city. No 
one guessed who the beggar was, for well he knew how 
to dissemble. I alone recognised him, but he cunningly 
evaded my questions, and only when I had brought 
him into my house, where I caused him to be bathed 
and anointed, and had sworn by all the gods that 
5 


92 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


I would not betray him until he was safely back in 
the camp of the Greeks, would he tell the purpose 
for which he had come. On his way back, as he was 
passing out of the gate of the city, he held a sword 
concealed under his clothes, with which he cut down 
a number of the Trojans. The women of the city 
mourned, but I rejoiced in my heart, for my mind had 
already righted itself ; I was longing for my home, 
and bewailed the fatal magic which had caused me 
to leave my beloved country, and my daughter and my 
noble husband.’ 

Menelaiis presently called to mind another case in 
which Ulysses had excelled all his companions in saga- 
city and presence of mind. 6 1 have indeed known many 
men,’ said he, 4 but never have I met with one who 
was the equal of Ulysses. When we heroes were in the 
Wooden Horse, it was doubtless under the inspiration 
of one of the gods who protected the Trojans that thou 
earnest, Helen, out of the city with one of the king’s 
sons, to look at it. Three times didst thou go round 
the Horse, calling to all the heroes, one after the other, 
imitating the voices of their wives. So well did it 
succeed, that all but Ulysses believed their wives to be 
really there, and were about to betray their hiding- 
place. But he, with weighty words, held them back 
from this folly, and when one of the heroes was, not- 
withstanding, about to answer his wife, he seized him 
by the throat and held him until thou wert safely out 
of the way.’ 

It was now bed-time, and the two young men spent 
the night in the cool corridor, where Helen had 
caused couches to be prepared for them. 


CHAPTER XX. 


MENELAUS GIVES TELEMACHUS TIDINGS OF HIS FATHER. 

The next morning, when Menelaiis came out, he found 
Telemachus already seated on the stone bench in front 
of the house ; and placing himself beside the young 
man, he asked him kindly what had brought him to 
Sparta. Telemachus answered that he wished to ask 
the king whether, in the course of his travels, he had 
heard anything of the fate of his father; and then 
he went on to describe the wretched state of things at 
Ithaca in consequence of the absence of Ulysses. 

Menelaiis shook his head angrily, and said, ‘Mad 
fools they are who dare to intrude into the lair of the 
strong hero. They will be like so many young fawns 
who have ventured into the den of a lion. Presently 
the lion comes back, and devours the helpless creatures. 
Are they then so certain, the fools, that Ulysses will 
never return ? Woe lies in store for them, and bitter 
will be the wedding to which they are looking forward. 
By a wise old sea-god I have been assured that thy father 
is still alive. I will tell thee how I met with him. 

‘ I had sailed with my ships from Egypt to the 
island of Pharos, and had landed there to take in fresh 
■water. From that place I hoped that I should quickly 


94 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


reach home, but suddenly the wind stood still, — there 
was not enough breeze to stir a leaf on a tree. Day 
after day passed by, and still there was not a breath of 
wind. At last our provisions began to fail, and my 
companions sat down despondingly on the shore to fish, 
in order to allay the pangs of hunger. I did not know 
what to do. 

4 One day as I was wandering sadly along the coast, 
1 met with the nymph Eidothea, who entered into 
conversation with me, and asked why I remained so long 
upon the desert island. In reply, I told her all about it, 
and begged her to reveal to me which of the gods it was 
who was angry, and prevented the wind from blowing. 
She answered, 44 1 do not know, but my father, the sea- 
god Proteus, knows everything, and he can tell thee, 
not only what thou must do in order to get away 
from hence, but also what has become of thy friends. 
But he will not tell thee unless he is compelled to 
do so.” 

4 1 asked her how I could get this information from 
him, and she said, 44 About midday, my father comes 
out from the sea, and lies down to sleep in a grotto on 
the shore ; his faithful seals come also, and sun them- 
selves in front of the grotto. To-morrow I will find 
a safe hiding-place close by, for thee and three of thy 
companions whom thou mayest choose. As soon as 
the sea-god is asleep, seize him and hold him fast, 
and do not let thyself be frightened by any of his tricks. 
He will change himself into all kinds of animals, yea 
even into fire and water; but when he sees that he 
cannot escape from thee, he will ask thee what thou 


MENELAUS GIVES TELEMACHUS TIDINGS. 95 

wouldst have of him, and will give thee the informa- 
tion of which thou standest in need.” 

6 The nymph dived into the sea again, and I returned 
to my companions. The next morning, I took the 
three strongest with me to the grotto, and the nymph 
came out of the sea with the skins of four seals, that 
had just been killed. She dug four shallow trenches 
in the sand, each one just big enough for a man to lie 
down in. When we had placed ourselves in them, she 
spread the skins over us, but we could never have 
endured the dreadful odour, if she had not given us 
also a little of the fragrant ambrosia of the gods, 
wherewith to overpower it. 

‘ Towards midday, the faithful seals of Proteus came 
up out of the water and laid themselves down beside 
us, and soon afterwards the sea-god himself appeared 
above the waves. He counted his followers, ourselves 
among the rest, — for he did not perceive that we were 
not real seals, — and then he went into the shady grotto 
and lay down beside the animals, just as a shepherd 
rests among his sheep. As soon as we thought he was 
asleep, we rose up and fell upon him with a shout, and 
held his hands and feet so fast that he could not move. 
Then he began his tricks, and changed himself by turns 
into a furious lion, a horrible dragon, a panther and a 
wild boar ; after that there was nothing but a stream 
of water, and lastly he became a tall, spreading tree. 
But all the time we never let go our hold of what we 
had seized at first, and when he saw that he could not 
frighten us, he became once more the sea-god, and 
asked, “ What would ye have of me ? ” 

fi I answered, “ Thou knowest well the trouble that 


96 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


now oppresses us. Tell us therefore which of the gods 
it is who detains us here, and how we may turn away 
his anger.” 

4 44 Before thy departure from Egypt,” he replied, 
44 thou shouldst have offered sacrifices to Zeus and the 
other gods, and never wilt thou see thy home again, 
unless thou returnest to Egypt to make up for the 
neglect.” 

4 It was tiresome enough to have to make the journey 
over again, for it was a troublesome one, but I comforted 
myself with the prospect of a speedy return home, and 
hastened to ask concerning the fate of my old friends 
with whom I had fought before Troy. 

4 The sea-god answered, 44 Better had it been that 
thou hadst not enquired, for it will make thee sad to hear 
what has befallen them. Two have perished, and the 
third, though he is indeed alive, is a prisoner in a distant 
island. The Lesser Ajax, that dauntless hero, drew 
upon himself the wrath of Athene, and almost perished 
in a violent storm. He succeeded however in reaching 
a solitary rock, and might yet have arrived in safety at 
his home, had he not, with presumptuous folly, cried 
aloud in tones of defiance, 4 Even against the will of 
the gods have I saved myself from the storm/ This 
Poseidon heard, and with his trident he cleft the rock, 
so that the upper part on which Ajax was seated fell 
into the sea, and he perished in the waves. 

4 44 Better at first it seemed that thy brother would 
fare. He landed happily on his own shores, and was 
so rejoiced that he threw himself upon the ground and 
kissed it with tears in his eyes. But treason was 
lurking close at hand. For more than a year, a spy 


MENELAUS GIVES TELEMACHUS TIDINGS. 97 

had been on the look-out for the ships of Agamemnon, — 
a great reward had been promised him for timely notice 
of their approach — and when Aegisthus heard that thy 
brother was about to land, he met him with assumed 
friendliness, and invited him to a banquet ; but while 
Agamemnon and his comrades eat and drank, suspect- 
ing no evil, he fell upon them with a band of armed 
followers, and not one remained alive. ’ 

6 When the sea-god told me this, I was filled with 
overpowering sorrow, and rolled myself over and over 
in the sand, wishing 1 had never been born. But the 
sea-god upbraided me, and said, “ Thy weeping avails 
nothing. Haste thee rather to return to thy home, then 
mayest thou perchance find tHe murderer still alive, and 
be able to avenge thy brother.” 

. ‘ This prospect assuaged my grief, and I proceeded 
to ask him which it was of the heroes who was detained 
upon a distant island. He told me it was thy father, 
and added, “ I saw him sitting upon the shore, weeping 
bitterly. The nymph Calypso keeps him there against 
his will, and there is no ship in which he can make his 
escape.” After the sea-god had told me these things, 
he disappeared under the water with his faithful seals.’ 

Thus spoke Menelaiis, and Telemachus was filled 
with joy, for he had now good reason to hope that 
Ulysses was still alive, and that by the help of Athene 
he might yet reach his home. 


93 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE PLOT OF THE SUITORS. 

For some time after the departure of Telemachus from 
Ithaca he was missed by no one, for he often went for 
a few days into the country, and stayed amongst the 
faithful old servants and herdsmen of his father. But 
one day when the suitors were again amusing them- 
selves with games in front of the house, Noemon, the 
man who had supplied Telemachus with the ship, came 
and said to Antinoiis, 4 Canst thou tell me when Tele- 
machus will return from Pylos ? I have lent him my 
ship, and now I have need of it myself.’ 

Antinoiis and the other suitors were thunder-struck 
at hearing these words, for they had not conceived it 
possible that Telemachus should, against their will, get 
a ship in which to go to the friends of his father. 
Antinoiis enquired who had accompanied him, and 
Noemon replied, 4 The best voting men of the city have 
gone with him, and the aged Mentor went also as their 
leader. But it may indeed have been a god who took 
the form of Mentor, for yesterday I saw him in the 
city.’ 

When Noemon had left them, the suitors crowded to- 
gether in a corner of the court-yard, and took counsel one 


THE PLOT OF THE SUITORS. 


99 


of the other. Antinoiis said, 4 Who would have thought 
that Telemachus could carry out his purpose, and get 
companions, moreover, to go with him ? He begins to 
be dangerous, and if we do not put him out of the way, 
it may go hard with us. Give me therefore a ship and 
some men ; I will lie in wait for him in the sea between 
Ithaca and Samos , 1 and kill him as he returns.’ 

To this the suitors agreed, and Antinoiis chose 
twenty of them to go with him. They went down to 
the shore and pushed a ship out to sea, which they 
stored with everything that would be useful, and also 
with arms ; then they steered her to a little island, 
from which they would be able to take the ship of 
Telemachus by surprise on her return journey. 

The suitors made their arrangements with great 
secrecy, but their designs were discovered by the herald 
Medon, who was not of their party, and only served 
them because he was compelled to do so. He stole up- 
stairs to Penelope ; but the queen, not knowing for what 
purpose he had come, received him with words of re- 
buke. 4 Herald,’ she said, 4 what new message of inso- 
lence hast thou to bring me from the suitors ? Shall 
the maidens leave their work to prepare a meal for 
them ? Oh that they might perish, and to-day for 
the last time riot in this house ! Have ye not heard 
from your fathers how that Ulysses was never harsh or 
unjust towards them ? Ill indeed do ye thank him, 
turning his house to evil uses as if it were your own.’ 

4 Would to the gods that this were the worst,’ 
replied Medon. 4 But the suitors are planning a 

1 Not the well-known Samos in the Aegean Sea, but a smaller 
island in the Ionian Sea, close to Ithaca. 


100 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

grievous sin. They hope to slay thy son as he returns 
home from Pylos.’ 

When Penelope heard this, she became almost 
rigid with terror, and for some time she was unable to 
speak; but at last she said, 4 Has my son gone away 
then ? Why has he done this ? Shall his name also 
be banished from among the living ? ’ 

4 Whether this thing has been put into his mind 
by a god,’ answered Medon, 6 1 know not, or whether he 
has thought of it himself; but he has gone to Pylos to 
seek for tidings of his father.’ 

He went downstairs again, and in her despair the 
queen sank down upon the threshold, and sobbed until 
all the women of the house heard her, and came run- 
ning to know the cause of her grief. 

Penelope told them what Medon had said to her. 
6 Woe is me,’ she wailed. 6 A harder fate has Zeus laid 
on me than on any other woman. First he took from 
me my noble husband, and now will the winds snatch 
away my beloved son, and I shall never see him again. 
Faithless ye are, who knew of his going, and did not 
warn me ! I would have held him back, or perished 
in the effort. But now, send quickly to Laertes ; he 
may be able to think of some means of saving his 
grandson.’ 

Then replied the aged Eurycleia, 4 Kill me, lady, if 
thou wilt ; I will hide nothing from thee. I knew all 
about it. I furnished him also with food and wine for 
the journey, but Telemachus made me swear to keep it 
from thee, lest thou shouldst grieve concerning him. 
Follow now my advice. Send no messenger to Laertes ; 
he cannot help, and why shouldst thou make the sorrow- 


THE PLOT OF THE SUITORS. 


101 


ing old man yet more sorrowful ? But bathe thyself, 
and put on thy festal robes, and pray to Athene, for she 
can protect thy son from all danger. Of a surety the 
gods will not utterly forsake the house of Ulysses.’ 

Penelope did as Eurycleia advised. Before long 
she might have been seen standing, surrounded by all 
her maidens, in one of the rooms of the upper storey, 
with a basket full of barley in her hand ; and thus she 
prayed to Athene : 4 Hear me, mighty goddess, for many 
were the sacrifices with which Ulysses was wont to 
honour thee. Think of them now, and save my dear 
son. Preserve him from the malice of the suitors.’ 

That night, Penelope lay sorrowfully upon her 
couch, filled with thoughts that alternated between 
fear and hope, and presently she fell asleep. Then 
Athene created a Dream in the form of her sister who 
was married and living far away from Ithaca. The 
Dream entered the room through the key-hole of the 
door, and stood at the head of her bed. Penelope 
was surprised to see her, and said in her sleep, 4 Sister, 
how earnest, thou hither? Always hitherto thou hast 
been afraid of the long journey. Alas ! thou findest me 
in deep affliction. My son has gone away in a ship, who 
never before has journeyed by sea, and easily he may 
perish in strange lands, or on the sea where his enemies 
lie in wait for him ! ’ 

The Dream answered, 4 Be of good courage, and fear 
nothing. Telemach'us has by his side a companion 
whom many might in vain desire, for Athene herself 
accompanies him. Out of compassion for thee, she has 
sent me to tell thee this.’ 

The thoughts of Penelope turned quickly to her 


102 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


beloved Ulysses, and she said, 4 If thou art come at the 
bidding of the goddess, tell me of my unhappy hus- 
band. Is he yet alive and able to see the light of the 
sun, or dwells he already among the shadows of the 
Lower World ? ’ 

But the Dream answered, 4 Of him can I tell thee 
nothing. 5 With these words she left the room in the 
same manner that she had entered it, and disappeared 
in the outer air. leaving Penelope strengthened and 
comforted. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


ULYSSES LEAVES THE ISLAND 'OF CALYPSO. 

It was now the seventh year since Ulysses had landed 
on the island of Calypso, and all this time Athene had 
been powerless to help him. Gladly would she have long 
ago enabled him to escape, but Poseidon was still angry 
with him because he had blinded his son, the Cyclops, 
and whenever in the council of the gods Athene raised 
her voice in favour of Ulysses, Poseidon made answer 
that nothing would induce him to forego his revenge ; 
and Zeus was unwilling to vex his brother by taking 
part against him. 

But it happened in the seventh year, that a sacrifice 
was offered to Poseidon by the Ethiopians who lived 
at the world’s end, and Poseidon went to the feast, and 
remained there all the time it lasted. This was an 
opportunity for Athene, and she did not fail to make 
the most of it for the man who was dear to her. 

All the gods except Poseidon were just then 
assembled on Mount Olympus, that abode of bliss, 
where never snow could reach, nor rain, nor wind, but 
where the sky glowed always with unclouded splendour. 
Athene took advantage of this, and going to Zeus, she 
said to him, 4 My heart is torn with grief for the hapless 


104 THE WANDEKINGS OF ULYSSES. 

Ulysses. The nymph Calypso detains him on her island, 
and with honeyed words endeavours to make him forget 
his home in Ithaca. But as for him, he has but one 
wish — namely, that he may return thither ; and readily 
would he consent to die if he could but once again see the 
smoke rising from his beloved island. Wherefore art 
thou angry with him, Father Zeus ? Was he not ever 
fatherly and mild and gentle towards his people ? 
Did he not honour thee duly with rich sacrifices ? ’ 

4 Dear child,’ replied Zeus, 4 how should I be angry 
with the noble Ulysses? Wiser far is he than all 
other men, and he has never neglected his duties 
towards the gods. But Poseidon wills to punish him ; 
his life indeed he cannot take away, for that is against 
the decree of Fate, but it is in his power to keep him 
a prisoner, far away from his home. But let us now 
with one accord resolve that Ulysses shall be suffered 
to return to Ithaca ; what can Poseidon do against all 
of us ? ’ 

The other gods agreed, and Zeus called Hermes, 
the Messenger, and sent him to the island of Calypso, 
to tell the nymph that she must allow Ulysses to 
depart without delay in a suitable ship. It was a long 
distance to the island of Calypso, but the journeys of 
the gods were quickly accomplished. Hermes bound 
round his feet the golden sandals with which he could fly 
with the speed of thought over land and sea, and in his 
hand he took the staff whose lightest touch could send 
to sleep those who were awake, and wake those who 
slept. When, in the course of his flight, he came to 
the sea, he dipped down so low that the crests of the 
waves almost touched his breast, — just as sea-gulls do 
when they are catching fish. 


ULYSSES LEAVES THE ISLAND OF CALYPSO. 105 


When he reached the island, he entered the grotto 
of Calypso, which was pleasantly situated in the midst 
of beautiful trees and shrubs. He found the nymph 
sitting alone, weaving, and singing as she worked ; on 
the hearth there burned a fire of fragrant cedar-wood and 
frankincense, the odour of which was w T afted to a great 
distance. Calypso recognised Hermes at once, for all 
the gods knew one another, however far they might 
dwell apart, and she asked him for what purpose he 
had come. When he had delivered the message of 
Zeus, she was greatly troubled, for she still hoped that 
at last Ulysses would put the thought of Ithaca out of 
his mind, and be content to remain with her for ever. 
But she did not dare to set herself against the will of 
Zeus, and with a heavy heart she declared herself 
ready to let Ulysses depart. 

Then Hermes flew back to Mount Olympus, and 
Calypso went down to the coast, where she found 
Ulysses sitting alone as usual, consumed with home- 
sickness, weeping and looking out towards the sea. 
She went up to him, and said, 6 Weep no longer, for I 
am going to release thee. Take wood, and make for 
thyself a boat. I will provision it with food and wine, 
and send a favourable wind, — that so, if it be the will 
of the gods, thou mayest return swiftly to thy home.’ 

But Ulysses did not trust the nymph ; he could not 
believe that she really intended to help him, and he 
said, 4 How can I hope to cross the sea in a boat built 
by my own hands, when not even the best ships escape 
the fury of the winds and waves ? Without thy good 
will it is useless for me to attempt it ; therefore swear 
to me that thou hast in thy mind no evil design 
against me.’ 


106 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


Calypso smiled, and stroked him gently with her 
hand as she answered, 4 Never dost thou forget thy 
accustomed caution. I swear then by heaven and 
earth, and by the water of the Styx, — that most solemn 
oath that a god can take — that I have in my mind no 
purpose to harm thee. I will advise thee as I would 
advise myself.’ 

The nymph led Ulysses to a part of the island 
where there were some tall trees ; of these he hewed 
down the best, and fashioned out of them a little 
boat. It required no small degree of skill and care to 
work with the few tools — the hatchet, axe and gimlet 
— with which the goddess supplied him, and to fasten 
the planks together so that the waves might not break 
over the tiny boat, nor easily overturn it. When it 
was finished, he added a mast and rudder, and out of 
some materials with which the goddess furnished him 
he made a sail, and fastened i.t to the mast. 

By the fourth day, the boat was finished, and could 
be rolled down to the sea upon rollers made of 
smoothly planed trees; on the fifth day Ulysses set 
out, well provisioned with food, wine, and water. How 
happy he was when he pushed off from the island, and 
saw his sails swelling with the favourable wind ! 
Calypso had told him that he must first go to the 
Land of the Pheacians, and so steer as always to keep 
the sign of the Great Bear on his left. There was no 
time for sleep, and for seventeen nights he kept his 
eyes fixed on the Great Bear, ready to make use of the 
rudder the moment there was any fear of the boat 
diverging from the right course. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


ULYSSES REACHES THE LAND OF THE PHEACIANS. 

On the eighteenth day, Ulysses sighted land. It was 
the country of the Pheacians, and soon he was able to 
distinguish mountains in the distance. But, unfor- 
tunately for him, it happened that just at this time 
Poseidon w*as on his journey home from the land of the 
Ethiopians. Driving in his chariot through the air 
above the sea,, he descried the little boat making for 
itself a path through the waves, and he shook his head 
with displeasure as he said , 4 What is this that I see ? 
Have the gods then changed their purpose during my 
absence and set this man free ? Already is he near the 
Land of the Pheacians, which Fate has decreed to be 
the end of his wanderings ; hut he is yet in my power, 
and of that he shall soon be aware.’ 

With these words he raised his trident, and from all 
corners and ends of the earth, the wind brake loose ; 
the sky became as black as night, and the waves rose 
like mountains. 4 Woe is me,’ cried Ulysses, 4 must I 
yet again taste the bitterness of the salt waves ? Ah, 
would that, I had rather fallen before Troy ! Then 
would I have met with a glorious death, and my friends 
would have buried me with honour, but now I shall 
perish miserably.’ 


108 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


Hardly had he thus spoken, when a heavy wave 
broke over the boat and overturned it. The mast 
gave way, the sails were torn from the light, wood- 
work, and Ulysses himself sank and remained long 
beneath the waves, for his clothes became heavy with 
the salt water and impeded his movements. At last, 
however, he rose to the surface again, and spat out 
the salt water. Then he looked round for his boat ; 
it was not far from him, and with mighty strokes he 
swam towards it, and was soon upon the wreck, tossing 
up and down at the mercy of the waves. 

Now there was a nymph who lived in the sea, — 
Leucothea by name. She had once been a mortal, but 
was now a sea-goddess. She came up out of the water, 
and seating herself on one of the beams of the wreck, 
she said to Ulysses, 4 Poseidon bears thee, it is true, no 
good will, but thou shalt not perish. Throw off thy 
heavy clothes, and trust thyself in the water. I will 
lend thee my veil ; bind it beneath thy breast, and it 
wdllkeep thee from all harm. When thou hast reached 
the land, throw it back into the water, with thy face 
turned away.’ 

Thereupon she dipped again beneath the waves, 
leaving Ulysses much perplexed. ‘What if it were 
some treacherous nymph,’ he said to himself, ‘ who was 
trying to persuade me to forsake this my last refuge, 
that I might the more speedily meet with my death ? 
Better then is it that I remain here so long as the 
beams hold together when the weaves have utterly 
destroyed the boat, and there is nothing to lose in 
forsaking it, then will I try what can be done with the 
veil.’ 


ULYSSES REACHES THE LAND OF THE PHEACIANS. 109 

It was not Jong before there came a mighty wave 
which smote the beams asunder, so that they flew apart 
like chaff before the wind. Ulysses caught one of 
them and seated himself astride it; then he threw off 
his clothes, bound the veil round his body, and cast 
himself into the sea. It was with no treacherous 
intent that the nymph had given him the veil, and 
he found it support him so that he floated without 
difficulty upon the water ; all that was necessary for 
him to do was to steer with his hands. 

Poseidon saw his shipwrecked condition with great 
satisfaction, and cried, 4 Struggle on through the 
water till thou comest to the Land of the Pheacians. 
Thou wilt find it hard enough to get there.’ Then he 
urged on his horses and drove away ; but as soon as he 
was gone, Athene came and stilled the winds and the 
waves. . 

Ulysses swam for two days and two nights without 
approaching land, but at last, on the third day, he 
perceived the mountains which he had seen before. 
He came nearer and nearer, but now he was threatened 
by a new danger. The coast rose straight up from the 
sea in cliffs, and the breakers were so powerful that if 
he had attempted to land, he would have been flung 
by the waves against the sharp corners of the rocks, 
and dashed to pieces. Once indeed he was seized by 
them, but he succeeded in grasping a rock with his 
hands, and to this he clung until the wave had spent its 
force ; then the return wave dragged him back with 
great fury, stripping all the skin from his fingers. 

Finding it hopeless to attempt a landing in that 
place, Ulysses swam further on, hoping to reach a flat 


110 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


part of the coast where there were no breakers, and at 
last he arrived at the mouth of a river. Here there 
was a good landing-place, but he was so exhausted 
by the long battling with the waves, that he could 
not contend against the force of the current. Then he 
prayed to the god of the river. ‘ He:ir me, 0 thou 
mighty one ! 5 said he, ‘ for I come to thee as a sup- 
pliant. Extend thy kindness and hospitality towards 
me, and have pity on me.’ And the god heard him, 
and held his water back. 

When Ulysses felt the dry ground beneath his feet, 
he sank upon his knees, quite overcome with fatigue, 
and for some time he could move neither hand nor 
foot. Then he raised himself, and unfastening the veil 
which Leucothea had given him, he threw it behind 
him into the river, from w T hence it was borne down to 
the sea. After this, he again threw himself down, and 
kissed the earth many times, so overjoyed was he at 
having landed in safety. 

But it was evening, and he had to consider where 
he should pass the night. If he remained by the 
river, he feared lest he should die of cold, for he had 
no clothes ; if on the other hand he laid himself down 
in the forest, he might be devoured by wild animals. 
On the whole, this latter danger seemed to be the 
more remote, and Ulysses went into the forest and 
sought for a sheltered place -in which to make his bed. 
He found two young olive trees that had grown from 
a single root, and had covered the space between them 
with such a wealth of foliage that neither sunshine, 
rain, nor wind could penetrate it. All around lay the 
fallen leaves of many years, thickly heaped one upon 


ULYSSES REACHES THE LAND OF THE PHEACIANS. Ill 

r 

another ; and out of these Ulysses made for himself 
a soft bed, and piled them up over him for a covering 
when he had lain down among them. Soon he felt 
warm and comfortable, and sank into a peaceful sleep. 

In those old times it was very difficult to kindle 
a fire, and they who lived apart, and far from any 
neighbour at whose friendly hearth they might seek 
a burning brand, found it convenient at night to cover 
up a red-hot log with a quantity of ashes, so that in 
the morning there might still be some sparks left in 
it. Just like such a red-hot log among the ashes was 
Ulysses as he lay there, covered up on all sides with 
the soft warm leaves. 


112 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

NAUSICAA. 

Ulysses was now in the land of the Pheacians, and in 
order to secure for him a good reception, Athene betook 
herself in the night to the king’s palace, and appeared 
in a dream to his daughter, the lovely Nausicaa. She 
took the form of one of the girl’s companions, and said 
to her , 4 Nausicaa, hast thou no heed that it is again 
time to wash the garments, as we are wont to do ? 
Soon will thy wedding-day be here, when thou thyself 
must be beautifully dressed, and many garments will 
moreover be needed to deck the guests who come to 
the feast. Already the noblest Pheacian youths are 
suing for thee, and thou Wilt not long remain a maiden 
in thy father’s house. Let us go early in the morning 
to the river, and wash the garments.’ 

When the morning came, Nausicaa awoke and 
remembered her dream. She dressed quickly and 
went to her parents, whom she found in the hall : 
Arete, the queen, was sitting with her maidens by the 
hearth, spinning; and her father, King Alcinoiis, she 
met on the threshold, for he was about to join the 
chief men of the city at the great meeting-place of the 
citizens. Nausicaa said to him, 4 Dear father, wilt 


NAUSICAA. 


113 


thou have a waggon made ready for me, that I may go 
to the river to wash the clothes? Thou hast need 
always of fresh linen when thou goest to the council, 
and my five brothers also, when they betake themselves 
to the dance. It must be my care that there is no 
lack of fitting garments.’ She thought indeed of the 
coming wedding of which the Dream had spoken, but of 
this she said nothing to her father. 

4 Gladly, my child,’ answered Alcinoiis, 4 do I grant 
thee this request, as every other. The men shall get 
the waggon ready without delay.’ He gave his orders, 
and then went out iuto the city. Soon the waggon 
was at the door, with the mules ready harnessed to it, 
and Nausicaa brought out the clothes and placed them 
inside. Her mother gave her some bread and other 
provisions to take with her, and some red wine in a 
leather bottle. She added also a little golden flask 
with oil in it, for when their work was over, the 
maidens loved to bathe in the river, and anoint them- 
selves with sweet oil. Nausicaa climbed up into the 
waggon, seized the reins and whip, and drove down 
towards the river, — the other maidens following on 
foot. 

The part of the river where the washing-ground was 
situated was just where Ulysses had landed the even- 
ing before, and close to the wood where he was now 
asleep. When they had reached the place, the girls 
unharnessed the mules and let them graze ; then they 
brought out the clothes from the car, and when they 
had taken off their sandals and fastened up their long 
robes, they jumped into the river. Hither and 4 thither 
they ran about, washing the clothes, and when they 


114 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


had finished, they spread them out to dry upon beds 
of little pebbles which had been washed clean by the 
sea-waves. 

After this, they had the rest of the day for enjoy- 
ment. First they bathed and anointed themselves, 
then they eat and drank, and lastly they amused them- 
selves by playing at ball. This was a favourite game 
in those days, and the girls stood round in a circle, and 
sang, as they threw the ball from one to the other. 

It was now time for Ulysses to awake, for the god- 
dess Athene intended that he should appeal for help to 
the maidens, that they might take him back with them 
to the city. She therefore caused the ball, in changing 
hands, to fall into the. water; and at this the girls 
laughed and screamed, making such a noise that 
Ulysses awoke. He rose from his bed of leaves, and 
hearing the sound of maidens’ voices, resolved to 
ask their hospitality ; he was quite without clothes, 
but covered himself as well as he could with a leafy 
branch. He came out of the wood, and advanced 
towards the maidens, who were frightened at seeing 
him, and ran away screaming. Only Nausicaa held her 
ground, and it was easy to recognise in her the leader 
of the band, for as compared to the other maidens in 
height and beauty, she was like Artemis among her 
nymphs. 

The wise Ulysses spoke to the princess from a dis- 
tance, and so well did he know how to choose his words 
that he at once inspired her with confidence. He told 
her how he had been tossed about on the sea for twenty 
days and had barely escaped with his life, and begged 
her to have pity on him, and to give him some clothes 


NAUSICAA. 


115 


and show him the way to the city. 6 For this,’ he said, 
6 may the gods grant thee whatsoever thou desirest., — 
a good husband, and a well-ordered household, and 
always harmony therein ; for nothing is sweeter or 
more excellent than when husband and wife are of 
one mind, dwelling together in the same house/ 

Nausicaa promised to help him, and told him that 
she was the daughter of the king, Alcinoiis. Then she 
called to her maidens, and quieted them, saying, 6 This 
man is one who has met with misfortune. In his dis- 
tress he comes to us, and seeks our help. We cannot 
refuse it, for all strangers and suppliants are protected 
by Zeus. Give him therefore food and drink, and 
clothes to cover him.’ 

Ulysses went first to the river and cleansed himself 
from the sand and soil of the sea ; he also anointed 
himself with oil from the queen’s flask, and put on 
the clothes with which Nausicaa had supplied him. 
When he came back, the maidens were astonished to 
see how noble and stately he looked, and Nausicaa said 
privately to the rest, 4 It cannot be that this man is 
hated by the gods ; mean enough he appeared before, 
but now he is himself even as one of the Immortals.’ 
Then she caused them to set meat and wine before 
Ulysses, and he eat as one who has long been a 
stranger to food. 

When evening approached, the clothes were taken 
up, folded neatly, and laid in the waggon ; the mules 
were harnessed, and the princess took her seat as 
before. She said to Ulysses, 6 Follow me now to the 
city, and so long as the way lies through the fields, 
keep close behind the waggon with my maidens. But 
6 


116 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


•when we come near the city, do thou linger. behind. For 
among the Pheacians there are men with evil tongues, 
who if they saw us entering the town together, might 
easily say one to the other, “ Who then is this tall and 
noble-looking stranger who comes hither with Nausicaa? 
Does she think that here she has not sufficient choice, 
and has therefore sought a husband from afar ? Or is 
it perchance a god who has come in answer to her 
prayers to abide with her for ever ? ” Thus might they 
speak, and injure me in their thoughts. Do thou there- 
fore wait in the poplar grove of Athene until we have 
had time to reach the palace. Then go into the city, 
and any child will direct thee to the house of my 
father, — it is easily found. Not in vain wilt thou sue 
there for help.’ 

Ulysses did as Nausicaa desired, and remained be- 
hind when they came to the grove of Athene ; it stood 
in the midst of a meadow, and a little stream flowed 
through it. When he found himself alone, he prayed 
to the goddess, saying, 4 Hear me, daughter of Zeus ! 
Be gracious to me, and grant that I may appear among 
the Pheacians as a welcome guest, and one deserving 
of pity. When I was in distress on the sea thou didst 
not help me, but now at least stand by me, I beseech 
thee.’ He did not know of the watchful care with 
which the goddess unfailingly seized every opportunity 
of coming to his aid. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE PALACE OF ALCINOUS. 

After a time, Ulysses left the grove, and made his way 
towards the city. First he passed over a narrow strip 
of land, on both sides of which lay the harbours of the 
Pheacians crowded with ships, moored close to the 
shore. It wtis easy to see that a sea-faring people 
were they who lived in this land ; and the great meet- 
ing-place of the citizens, with its many stone seats, 
which he next passed, was also dedicated to Poseidon. 
All this Ulysses marked with an observant eye, but no 
one could see him ; for Athene had cast a thick cloud 
over him, that the people whom he met might not 
tease him with tiresome questions. 

As he approached the entrance of the city, there 
came out of it a maiden carrying a pitcher of water ; 
it was Athene, who met him there for the purpose of 
giving him some good counsel. Ulysses asked her 
which was the king’s palace, and she replied that if he 
would follow her she would point it out to him, for it 
was close to the house of her father. When they 
had reached it, she said, 6 This is the king’s house. 
Thou wilt find him sitting at a banquet, with the 
nobles of the land gathered round him. If thou 


118 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


wouldst ensure a favourable reception, address thyself 
first to Arete the queen, for he who gains her good 
will has secured that of the king and of all the Phea- 
cians. When she goes through the streets, she is saluted 
by all with the utmost respect, and if any have a quarrel, 
they are willing to make peace if she will consent to 
settle their difference.’ 

The maiden went her way, and Ulysses stood gazing 
at the palace. He was astonished at the splendour 
which met his eyes, for it shone like the sun and the 
moon. The walls of the court-yard w r ere of brass, 
decorated at the top with a frieze of blue steel, and. 
the doors were of pure gold, with silver posts. At the 
two sides stood two dogs, one of gold, the other of 
silver, which had been marvellously wrought by the 
blacksmith god, Hephaestus, and seemed to be living 
animals, set there to guard the house. 

From the court-yard, Ulysses could see into the 
hall, where all along the walls were seats decked with 
gorgeous coverings, and here the Pheacian princes 
were assembled for the feast. Raised upon pedestals 
were beautiful golden statues of youths, holding in their 
hands flaming torches, by which the hall was lighted. 
And no less splendid than the house was the garden, 
which was full of magnificent trees, covered, in summer 
and winter alike, with the choicest fruits. 

Ulysses was still covered with the cloud which 
Athene had cast over him, so that no one saw him 
when he entered the hall. He went past the king, to 
where the queen, Arete, sat spinning by the hearth, and 
throwing himself down before her, he embraced her 
knees. At this moment the cloud dispersed, and 


THE PALACE OF ALCINOUS. 


119 


everyone was astonished at seeing a man kneeling 
before the queen. 

4 Queen Arete,’ said Ulysses, 4 to thee I come, and 
to thy husband, and to your guests, imploring the aid of 
one and all in my dire distress. May the gods grant you 
a happy life, and as for me, send me, I beseech you, 
without delay to my home, for I have long wandered 
in distant lands far from my friends, and many are the 
sufferings which I have endured.’ Thus speaking, he 
seated himself, as w T as in those days the custom of sup- 
pliants, among the ashes of the hearth ; but Alcinoiis 
seized him by the hand, and bade him rise up and 
take the seat next his own, which had been occupied 
by his favourite son. 

The feast proceeded, and when for the last time the 
wine had been mixed and poured into the cups, and 
they were again empty, Alcinoiis said to his guests, 
4 Now let us go to rest, for it is late. To-morrow I will 
invite all the more distinguished of the citizens to join 
me in offering a sacrifice, and feasting with our guest. 
He is no doubt a man who has met with misfortune, and 
not a god who comes in this form to try us, — for never 
yet have the gods appeared thus disguised, though often 
they have shown themselves openly at our feasts ; even 
if they met with one of us travelling alone, they would 
not fail to reveal themselves, for we are near of kin to 
them.’ 

Ulysses answered, 4 Think not for a moment that I 
am a god, but if thou knowest any man who has endured 
unspeakable suffering, to him thou mayest liken me.’ 

The guests went home, and Ulysses remained alone 
with the king and queen. Arete had immediately 


120 


THE WANDERINGS 0E ULYSSES. 


recognised the clothes which he wore, and now she asked 
him how he had come to their country, and who had 
given him the garments. Ulysses related how he had 
been seven years in the island of Calypso, and how the 
ship in which he had at last left it had been destroyed, 
and he himself, with great effort and after long swim- 
ming, had finally gained the coast. Then he told of his 
meeting with Nausicaa, and how she had refreshed him 
with food and wine, and had given him the garments. 

Then Alcinoiis said, 4 My daughter has not done 
well in that she did not at once bring thee to my house, 
for to her it was that thou didst first address thyself.’ 

Ulysses did not wish Nausicaa to be blamed, so he 
replied, concealing the truth, 4 She would have done so, 
but I thought thou mightest have been vexed if thou 
hadst seen me approaching with her, for easily are we 
all moved to anger.’ 

4 1 am not wont to be angry about trifling matters,’ 
answered the king with a smile, 4 and, moreover, what 
cause would there have been for anger in this case ? 
A son-in-law such as thou art would please me well, 
and I would willingly give him a house and all that 
belongs to it. But to thee I promise that to-morrow 
evening thou shalt depart for thine own land. Peace- 
fully mayest thou go to rest in the ship, for it will 
glide easily and swiftly over the w r ater, and when in 
the morning thou awakest, thou w T ilt find thyself in 
thine own countr}% no matter how far off it may be.’ 

The queen had a bed prepared for the stranger 
in the open corridor, and when it was ready, they all 
retired for the night, — Ulysses rejoicing that there was 
no need for him again to prepare for himself a couch 
in the wood. 


CHAPTER XXYI. 


THE PIIEACIAN GAMES. 

The following morning, the king conducted his guest 
to the great place of assembly near the harbour. And 
meanwhile Athene went through the streets in the 
form of a herald, crying out so loud that no one could 
fail to hear , 4 Hasten, ye citizens, to the meeting-place, 
for a stranger of no mean appearance has been ship- 
wrecked on our coasts, and has arrived at the king’s 
palace.’ The citizens streamed down towards the 
market-place, and soon the stone seats were occupied, 
and all the other places taken. At the sight of the 
stranger they were filled with amazement, for in order 
to make him acceptable in the eyes of the Pheacians, 
Athene had shed over him such grace and stateliness, 
that he showed no trace of the hardships he had 
undergone. 

When the citizens were assembled, Alcinoiis said, 
‘ Hear me, ye Pheacians. Ye see this stranger, — who 
he is I know not — who has long been tossed about on 
the sea, and who yesterday came to my house. He 
petitions us to send him to his home, and this we will 
do, for never do we refuse our aid to any stranger who 
comes to us in distress. Let us then put out a ship to 


122 


THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 


sea, and make it ready ; it shall be rowed by two-ana- 
fifty youths, and when they have prepared everything 
for the voyage, let them come to my house and take 
part in the banquet. But ye princes, follow me with- 
out delay, and we will return to the palace and 
entertain our guest.’ 

The oarsmen were soon chosen. They hastened to 
the sea, and when the} 7 had made ready the ship, they 
hastened to the palace, where they found the princes 
already assembled in the hall. There too was the 
singer Demodocus, to whom the gods had given both 
good and evil gifts : for he was blind, but at the same 
time he could sing so gloriously, that he made glad the 
hearts of all who heard him. On this day the number 
of the guests was so great that the king had given 
command to slaughter no less than twelve sheep, eight 
boars, and two oxen of the best. Soon the meal was 
ready, and the guests were seated at the tables, eating 
and drinking. The herald who had brought the blind 
singer into the hall, had led him to a chair among the 
other guests, and while he joined in the feast, the lyre 
with which he was wont to accompany his song, hung 
from a peg on one of the pillars just behind him. 

When the guests had finished, Demodocus seized 
his lyre, and sang a story of the Trojan war : for just 
at that time the brave deeds of the heroes of Troy were 
in the mouths of all men. It happened to be a story 
in which Ulysses had taken a prominent part — namely, 
a strife between that hero and Achilles ; and so clearly 
was it detailed by the singer, that it seemed to Ulysses 
as if the whole action were again taking place before 
his eyes. So powerfully was he affected by the 


THE PHEACIAN GAMES. 


123 


remembrance of former times that he was constrained 
to weep, and he covered his face with his mantle. 
Whenever the singer paused, he let fall his cloak and 
poured out a drink-offering to the gods, but as soon 
as the song began again, he wept afresh behind his 
mantle. 

The king, who was near him, observed this, and 
being unwilling that his guest should be made sorrowful, 
he rose up and said, 4 We have now had enough of 
feasting and of song. Let us go out and show the 
stranger what our young men can accomplish in games 
of strength and skill, so that when he goes to his home, 
he may take with him the remembrance of what he has 
here seen.’ 

They went accordingly to the great place of 
meeting, where many of the townsfolk were already 
assembled, and the games began. First the youths 
contended in the foot race ; then they measured their 
strength in wrestling, leaping, boxing and throwing the 
discus. 1 Ulysses looked on at the games, and praised 
the performance of the young men. One of the sons 
of Alcinoiis went up to him courteously, and asked if 
he would not also give some proof of his skill, but 
Ulysses excused himself, because his mind was occupied 
with very different matters. 

Now there stood by, one of the young Pheacians, 
Euryalus by name, who looked at the stranger some- 
what scornfully, and said, 4 In truth thou dost not seem 
to me like one who would be skilled in such games. 
Thou hast rather the appearance of a trader, who goes 

1 The discus was a round stone plate, or disc, which was to be 
thrown to as great a distance as possible. 

6 * 


124 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


with his wares from land to land, and thinks of nothing 
but how to make the most gain.’ 

Ulysses looked at him darkly as he answered, 

6 Verily the gods give not all good gifts to the same 
man. One may be of mean appearance, but he knows 
so well how to make choice of his words, that all men 
rejoice when they hear his wise and modest speech. 
Another may have beauty of form and feature, but his 
speech is rude and without understanding. To thee 
the gods have given a comely appearance, but by thy 
words thou hast mortified and wounded me. I am not 
without experience in the contests in which heroes 
delight, and while I was in my full vigour, there were 
not many who could surpass me. Now indeed my 
strength is wasted with long battling against the waves, 
and long fasting and privation, yet will I nevertheless 
show you that I am no novice at such sports, for thy 
bitter words have wounded me to the quick.’ 

He seized a discus, larger and heavier than those 
which the Pheacians had used, and without so much as 
taking off his mantle, he first swung it round several 
times with great force, and then let it fly. The 
Pheacians crouched to the ground as it rushed past 
them, far beyond the best throw that had yet been 
made ; and a man stepped forward from out of the 
crowd to mark the place where it fell. ‘ Thy token,’ 
he cried, 4 might easily be discovered by a blind man 
with his stick, so far has it left all the rest behind. 
Among the Pheacians will no man surpass thee, or 
even come near thy throw.’ The man was Athene, who 
wished to call the attention of all to the feat that had 
been performed. 


THE PHEACIAN GAMES. 


12& 


As for Ulysses, he rejoiced at his success, and said 
in a friendly tone to the Pheacians, 4 Now do ye in like 
manner. And if there is one among you who will 
stand up against me, either in boxing, or in leaping, or 
in wrestling, let him come forward. As an archer, I 
was counted second only to Philoctetes 1 amongst those 
who fought against Troy, and I can throw a spear 
farther than any other man can shoot an arrow. If in 
anything I should here find my master, it would be in 
the foot-race, for through being so long in the salt 
water, my limbs are not so supple as formerly." 

All were silent until Alcinoiis spoke. 4 Stranger,’ he 
said, 4 1 cannot blame thee in that thou hast been 
angered at the scornful words of the young man, and 
hast desired to show that he wronged thee. But this 
I must tell thee, and thou canst tell it again when thou 
hast come to thy home, — that we Pheacians are not 
strong in wrestling or in boxing, but we are excellent 
foot-racers, and in rowing no ope can make headway 
against us. Above all things we love a good feast, a 
good song, dancing, beautiful clothes, and warm baths. 
Let now the young dancers step forward and do us 
honour, that the stranger in our midst may confess 
that they are the best dancers he has ever seen. And 
fetch also from the great hall the lyre of Demodocus.’ 

The king’s commands w T ere quickly obeyed. Some 
men cleared a level space, bidding the crowd stand back, 
and led Demodocus into the midst. He took his lyre 
and began to play, and the dancers circled round him ; 
so nimble were their movements, that Ulysses could 
scarcely follow with his eyes the twinklings of their 
1 See The Trojan War , pp. 78-81. 


12G 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


feet. When the round dance was ended, Aicinoiis 
called two youths, and bade them perform a dance into 
which ball-throwing was introduced, at which the Phea- 
cians especially excelled. It was pleasant to watch 
them turning and twisting so lightly and gracefully, 
one throwing up the ball as high as he could, and the 
other springing to catch it as it descended, whilst 
other youths stood round, beating time with their 
- hands. 

After the second dance, Ulysses stepped forward and 
said to the king, 4 Not without reason didst thou praise 
the Pheacian dancers. They are, as thou hast said, un- 
surpassed, and I marvel at their skill.’ 

The king was much pleased at this praise, and he 
said to the princes, 4 What do ye say ? The stranger 
appears to me a man of good understanding, to whom 
we must do honour by offering him a suitable present. 
Ye princes are twelve in number, and I am the thir- 
teenth. Let each of us give him a mantle, and a 
doublet, and a talent of gold, and let us do this at 
once, that the stranger may have the pleasure of re- 
ceiving our gifts before the evening meal. And let 
Euryalus make peace with him by speaking friendly 
words and offering a present, for in truth the words 
which he spoke were not seemly.’ 

Euryalus was already ashamed of having wounded 
the brave hero, and now he came forward and said, 4 1 
wish thee well, worthy stranger, and may the winds 
carry away my thoughtless words. May the gods soon 
restore thee to thy wife, and permit thee to see thy 
home again.’ As he spoke, he presented Ulysses with 
his sword, which had a hilt of silver, and a sheath of 


THE PHEACIAN GAMES. 


127 


ivory studded with silver. Ulysses took it, answering 
courteously, 4 To thee also I wish well, 0 friend, and 
mayest thou never regret that thou hast given me this 
sword ; ’ and as he spoke he slung the beautiful weapon 
over his shoulders. 


128 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

ULYSSES RELATES HIS ADVENTURES TO THE PHEACIANS. 

The sun was now about to set, and the king re- 
turned to the palace with his guests. At the door 
leading into the hall, Ulysses met the lovely Nausicaa 
who had succoured him the previous day. She greeted 
him, saying, 4 Mayest thou prosper, stranger, and when 
thou hast returned to thy home, think sometimes of me, 
and remember that I was the first to help thee.’ 

4 If thy wish be fulfilled, and I have a prosperous 
return,’ answered Ulysses, 4 1 will remember thee every 
day, as a goddess who has saved my life.’ 

The gifts of the twelve princes had meanwhile been 
laid out upon the seats, and presented indeed a 
magnificent sight. Alcinoiis moreover not only gave 
as the others had done, but he also took a beautiful 
cup from the table and laid it beside the rest, saying 
that when Ulysses should have returned, he must think 
of him when using the cup to pour out his drink-offer- 
ings to the gods. The queen bade them bring a chest 
in which to stow away the presents, and when they 
were all laid inside it, Ulysses fastened down the lid 
carefully, and passed round the chest a strong cord, 
which he tied, as Circe had taught him, with so cunning 


ULYSSES RELATES HIS ADVENTURES. 


129 


a knot, that the cleverest man would not have been able 
to undo it. 

Then all the guests seated themselves for the 
evening meal. Ulysses was placed near the king, and 
before him was set a huge portion of boar-chine, sur- 
rounded with rich fat. He divided the portion into two 
halves, and called out to the herald to take one part 
to the blind singer, 4 for,’ said he , 4 the singer should be 
honoured by all men, because he is inspired by the gods 
themselves.’ Demodocus was pleased at this mark of 
respect, and when the meal was over, Ulysses cried out 
to him, 6 Well indeed hast thou sung, Demodocus, of 
the sufferings and the doings of the Greeks before Troy, 
and so truly that thou mightest thyself have been 
present. Sing now, T pray thee, the story of the great 
Wooden Horse which Epeius made with the help of 
Athene, and Ulysses devised for the destruction of Troy . 1 
Tell us also how it was brought into the city, and how 
the heroes, who were sitting inside it, descended at 
midnight and burst upon the enemy.’ 

Demodocus took the lyre from the pillar, and began 
the tale. It was all set forth as clearly as if the blind 
bard had a picture before his mind’s eye in which the 
whole action was displayed, and Ulysses was again 
moved to tears. Then Alcinoiis called to Demodocus 
to cease, and said, 4 Let him sing no more, Pheacians, 
for the song brings not joy to all of us. Our guest 
weeps incessantly while Demodocus sings, though it is 
our wish to make him glad; and to this end have we 
promised to speed him on his way, and have given him 
presents and prepared a banquet. For is there any 
1 See The Trojan War , pp. 86-92. 


130 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


right-minded man in whose eyes a stranger who 
comes to him seeking for help is not as dear as a 
brother ? 

4 But now tell me, stranger,’ he continued , 6 what is 
thy name ? Where is thy country, and the town of which 
thou art a citizen ? Tell me also what are the sufferings 
thou hast endured, and wherefore thou art moved to tears 
at the tale of the war which the Greeks waged before 
Troy ? Has some near relative of thine perchance 
fallen in the battle, or may be a dearly loved friend ? ’ 

6 Sadder yet will it make me,’ answered Ulysses , 4 to 
tell the story of my wanderings, and of the unspeakable 
calamities which have overtaken me. Nevertheless,, I 
wall relate to thee in order the misfortunes with which 
the gods have afflicted me, and first I will tell thee my 
name. I am Ulysses, the king of Ithaca.’ 

When the guests heard that the stranger who sat 
among them was he whose deeds of wisdom and courage 
Demodocus had so often recounted in his song, they 
were full of joy and wonder, and listened eagerly when 
Ulysses w T ent on to tell them of his adventures. He 
related how he had set out from Troy with twelve ships, 
and what had befallen him among the Ciconians, the 
Lotus-eaters, and the Cyclops ; then he told them about 
the swimming island of Aeolus, and of the calamity 
which had overtaken him in the country of the Laes- 
trygonians where he had lost all his ships but one,— 
and also of all that had happened to him at the island 
of Circe, and of his journey to the Land of the Dead. 

When he had got as far as this, it was already long 
past midnight, and Ulysses thought that the Pheacians 
would be wishing to go to rest. Moreover, Alcinoiis 


ULYSSES RELATES HIS ADVENTURES. 


131 


had promised that he would that night send him to his 
home, and the ship was waiting in the harbour. But 
Alcinoiis and Arete begged him to remain with them 
one more day in order that, now they had learnt to 
know their guest, they might give him still more pre- 
sents to take away with him. The night, too, was long, 
they said, and there would be time enough for sleep 
when he had ended his tale. 

So Ulysses went on, and told them of his return 
from the Land of the Dead, of the Sirens, of Scylla and 
Charybdis, of the cattle of the sun-god, of the destruc- 
tion of his last remaining ship, and of his arrival at the 
island of Calypso. The Pheacians were filled with 
wonder at all the marvellous things which Ulysses had 
seen and experienced, and it was almost morning before 
the assembly dispersed. 


132 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

ULYSSES IS CONVEYED TO ITHACA BY THE PHEACIANS. 

The next day, Alcinoiis and the other princes each 
presented Ulysses with a richly chased tripod of bronze, 
and a cauldron, also of bronze, such as those usually 
offered for prizes in the games. They considered 
that he well deserved the honours awarded to a victor, 
for with skill and courage he had fought his way 
through many dangers and difficulties, and had over- 
come them all. 

Once more the king and his guests feasted together 
till the evening, which was the time appointed for 
Ulysses to depart. But notwithstanding all the kind- 
ness of the Pheacians, the day seemed long to Ulysses, 
and even in the songs of Demodocus he could take no 
delight, for he knew not how to control his impatience 
to set out for his home. Often he looked towards the 
sun, longing that it would hasten to go down ; and right 
glad he was when he saw it begin to sink into the sea. 

At sunset Alcinoiis mixed the wine for the last time, 
the cups were filled, and the last drink-offerings poured 
out to the gods. Ulysses held out his cup towards 
Queen Arete, and wished her farewell. 4 Mayest thou 
have a happy life, 0 queen,’ he said, c until old age and 


ULYSSES IS CONVEYED TO ITHACA. 


133 


death come upon thee, which are the lot of all men. 
Mayest thou have joy continually in thy husband, thy 
children, and thy people.’ In like manner he took a 
hearty leave of Alcinoiis, and then left the house, 
attended by a herald whom the king sent to conduct 
him to the ship. 

The rowers prepared a couch for Ulysses on the 
deck, and he lay down, and soon sank into a deep sleep. 
The sea was as smooth as glass, and impelled by the 
vigorous oar-thrusts of the Pheacian youths, the ship 
shot over it as fast as an eagle can fly. There was 
neither rudder nor helmsman to be found on any of 
the Pheacian ships, for their vessels had the wondrous 
gift of understanding the wishes of the sailors, and 
always chose the right path ; even through a cloudy 
night they continued their course without danger or 
mishap. 

The journey from the land of the Pheacians to Ithaca 
was a very long one, but the star of morning had scarcely 
appeared in the sky when the ship reached her goal. 
She ran into a creek which had been called after the 
sea-god Phorcys, and behind which lay a flat coast very 
convenient for landing. On the shore there stood an 
ancient olive-tree, and hard by it was a beautiful grotto 
sacred to some water-nymphs. Inside the grotto, the 
rocks had twisted themselves into many strange forms ; 
some were like goblets and cauldrons, and others had 
taken the shape of great looms, with which it was said the 
nymphs used to weave beautiful garments. There were 
two entrances to the grotto — one to the north by which 
mortals were allowed to penetrate within it, the other 
to the south, which was reserved for the nymphs alone. 


134 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


The Pheacians rowed so vigorously towards the 
shore that they ran their ship half its length on to 
the sand. Ulysses was still asleep, and they did not 
awaken him, but raised him carefully in the coverings 
of which they had made his bed, and laid him down on 
the soft sand near the olive-tree, with the presents of 
their countrymen all around him. Then they rowed 
back towards their own land. 

But Poseidon was angry that the man he hated 
should have thus been landed peacefully, during his 
sleep, upon his own island. Far rather would he have 
had Ulysses suffer grievously, even on his last voyage, 
from storms and shipwreck ; and he resolved to visit the 
Pheacians with no light punishment. 

The sailors had almost reached their own country 
again, and many of the citizens were assembled on the 
shore, watching the approach of the vessel. Suddenly, 
however, she ceased to move onwards and appeared to 
be rooted to the ground ; and soon they perceived that 
the ship, with her whole crew, had been turned to 
stone.' 

They hastened to acquaint the king with this sad 
news, who, when he heard it, exclaimed, 4 Woe to us ! 
I now remember what I once heard long ago from 
my father. He told me that Poseidon was angry with 
us because we convey in safety to their homes all 
strangers who seek our help, and he said that some day 
Poseidon would destroy a Pheacian ship returning from 
such a journey, and would moreover cause a great 
mountain to rise up and overshadow our city. For the 
future, then, let us abstain from giving this help to 
strangers, and let us at once sacrifice twelve choice 


ULYSSES IS CONVEYED TO ITHACA. 


135 


bulls to the god. Perhaps he may then have pity on 
us, and refrain from creating the great mountain to 
destroy our city.’ 

The people lost no time in acting upon the advice 
of their king. The bulls were slaughtered without 
delay, and soon the whole body of the citizens was 
assembled round the altar of Poseidon, imploring him 
to have mercy upon them. 


136 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYtSES. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

ATHENE WARNS ULYSSES AGAINST THE SUITORS. 

Some time after the Pheacians had departed, Ulysses 
awoke. He was now in the land he had so ardently 
longed for, but he did not know it. For Athene had 
shed a mist over all the surrounding country, wish- 
ing to acquaint him, before he left the shore, of the 
dangers and difficulties he would still have to encounter. 
She therefore caused the familiar paths and rocks and 
trees to appear strange to Ulysses, so that when he 
awoke, he supposed himself to be in a strange land. 

Finding himself alone, he sprang up with a cry of 
despair. ‘ Woe is me ! ’ he cried. 4 The Pheacians are 
not the honest folk I took them for. They promised 
to convey me to my home, and now they have landed 
me on some strange coast.’ At that moment he saw a 
young shepherd coming to meet him, who from his 
appearance seemed to be the son of noble parents, and 
going up to him, he asked him what land it was. 

The youth answered , 6 Thou must indeed have come 
from far, if thou knowest not this island. It is in truth 
a stony country and un suited for horses, but it rears 
excellent flocks of cattle and goats, and wheat grows 
here in abundance ; moreover, the vine flourishes, and 


ATHENE WARNS ULYSSES AGAINST THE SUITORS. 137 

there are woods, and never-failing springs. Even so 
far away as Troy, men know the name of Ithaca.’ 

When Ulysses heard that he was in his own beloved 
land, he was filled with joy, but he was too cautious to 
tell the shepherd that he was the king of the country. 
He therefore concealed his delight, and invented a 
story to account for his presence there. 

4 Of Ithaca,’ he said, 4 1 have often heard, in my 
home in the land of Crete. PYom thence I led a band 
of men to fight in the Trojan war, but when I came 
home with my booty, one of the. king’s sons wanted to 
rob me of my spoils because I had refused to serve 
under his father. This made me angry, and I lay in 
wait for him with one of my men, and slew him as he 
was coming home from the field in the evening. On 
this account I was unable to remain in Crete, so I left 
part of my goods behind, and, with the remainder, I 
went aboard a Phenician vessel which was lying in the 
harbour, and offered the sailors a reward if they would 
take me to Pylos or to Elis. This they promised to 
do, but we were driven out of our course by contrary 
winds, and yesterday we landed here and lay down on 
the shore to rest. The Phenicians were now anxious to 
return home, and regretted their promise to me ; and 
early this morning, while I was still asleep, they laid 
my goods beside me on the shore, and returning without 
me to their ship, sailed away secretly.’ 

Before Ulysses had finished speaking, the young 
shepherd changed suddenly into a tall and beautiful 
woman ; it was Athene herself who had thus appeared 
to him. With a smile she said, ‘Hardly would a god 
succeed in outwitting thee, for thou art ever on the 


138 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


watch, and knowest well how to delude thine enemies, 
and those in whom thou hast no confidence. On this 
account art thou dear to Athene, who has often mani- 
fested her good will towards thee, and is ready now to 
help thee in counsel and in action.’ 

As she spoke, the goddess dispelled the mist which 
she had spread over the surrounding country, and 
Ulysses recognised the haven of Phorcys with its 
ancient olive-tree, and also the grotto of the nymphs, 
and the wooded mountain near by. He was almost 
beside himself with joy, and he fell upon the ground 
and kissed it rapturously. Then he turned towards 
the grotto, and, raising his hands, he made his prayer 
to the nympks. ‘ Ye nymphs,’ he said, 4 daughters of 
Zeus, whom I had lost all hope of ever seeing again, 
I greet you now with the greater delight. So long as 
Athene grants me life, I will ever honour you with 
duteous gifts.’ 

With the help of the goddess, Ulysses carried the 
rich presents given him by the Pheacians into the 
recesses of the grotto, and when everything had been 
stowed away, Athene placed a great stone before the 
entrance, so large that Ulysses could not have moved 
it, though he had put forth his utmost strength. Then 
the goddess sat with him under the olive-tree, and 
told him that he had still many dangers to encounter, 
and that if he would defeat the plots of the suitors 
and punish them as they deserved, he must keep his 
arrival a secret from everyone, even from his nearest 
relatives and most faithful servants. 

For more than three years, she told him, a company 
of shameless men had been feasting daily in his hall, 


ATHENS WARNS ULYSSES AGAINST THE SUITORS. 139 


wooing his wife and thereby causing her great distress, 
and moreover wasting his goods in their unseemly carou- 
sals. At this very moment, they were lying in wait for 
his son Telemachus,. that they might slay him treache- 
rously on his return from Pylos and Sparta, whither 
he had gone to seek for tidings of his father. 

Ulysses shuddered when he heard of his son’s 
danger, but the goddess assured him that she would 
protect the youth, and keep him from all harm. She 
further told Ulysses that he must not yet go into the 
city, but must first betake himself to his trusty swine- 
herd Eumaeus, who tended his swine near the spring 
Arethusa, and that meanwhile she would hasten to 
Sparta to recall Telemachus. 

It was important that Ulysses should not be 
recognised by anyone, and Athene therefore held up 
her hand, and changed him in a moment so completely 
that if a mirror had been placed before him, he 
would not have known himself. Instead of the strong 
hero, stood a feeble old man ; his beautiful fair hair 
was all gone, his clear blue eyes were sunken, his 
skin was creased and wrinkled, and instead of the 
costly garments which the Pheacians had given him, 
he was now dressed in beggar’s clothing, dirty and 
ragged ; from his neck there hung a beggar’s wallet, 
and in his hand he held a beggar’s staff. 

When Athene had thus transformed him, she 
disappeared, and Ulysses went on his way to find the 
trusty swineherd Eumaeus. 


140 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


• CHAPTER XXX. 

THE SWINEHERD EUMAEUS. 

Ulysses climbed a rugged path which led up through 
the woods that clothed the mountain, to the enclosure 
of the swineherd. The trusty Eumaeus had studied his 
master’s interest in all ways ; the herds had increased 
in number, new sties had been built, and round the 
whole, a wall had been erected as a protection against 
thieves. All this had been done moreover without any 
assistance from the queen, entirely out of the gain that 
had accrued to the herdsman from his thrifty manage- 
ment of the swine. Within the walls were twelve 
great sties for the mothers and sucking-pigs, each 
arranged for fifty swine ; the boars were sheltered at 
night in a cavern outside, where th.ey were protected 
by four savage dogs. They were now only three 
hundred and sixty in number, for every day the fattest 
of them had to be sent into the city, to be slaughtered 
for the repast of the suitors. 

When Ulysses emerged from the wood, Eumaeus 
was sitting in front of his hut, cutting out a pair of 
soles from a strip of ox-hide, and the dogs were lying 
near him. When they saw the strange beggar ap- 
proaching, they sprang up and ran at him, howling 


THE SWINEHERD EUMAEUS. 


141 


savagely. Ulysses knew well how to play the part of 
the timorous beggar, and letting his stick fall, he sank 
on one knee, as if in fright. 

Eumaeus threw down the soles, and hastening to 
the door of the court-yard, he called off the dogs, and 
threw stones at them to keep them quiet. Then he 
said to Ulysses, 6 The dogs might easily have torn thee 
to pieces, and how should I have borne such disgrace 
as that would have brought upon me ! The gods, alas ! 
have laid sorrow enough already upon me without 
adding more trouble, for I wait in vain for the return of 
my beloved master, and tend his swine for the good of 
others, whilst he perchance, if he is yet alive, may be 
begging his bread from door to door. But follow me 
into my hut, and I will set food and drink before thee.’ 

They went into the house, and Eumaeus pushed a 
chair towards his guest, and spread a goat-skin over it. 
Ulysses was rejoiced at his welcome, and said, ‘ May 
the gods reward thee for thy hospitality, and grant 
thee that which thou most desirest.’ 

Eumaeus answered, € Stranger, I may not turn 
away the meanest creature from my door, for all 
strangers and beggars are under the protection of Zeus. 
Sit thee down, and content thyself with what a poor 
fellow can offer thee. If the gods had but granted my 
master a safe return, he would not have failed to give 
me, as a reward for my service, a little house with a 
piece of land attached to it — then I should have had 
something better wherewith to entertain my guests. 
But he is far away. Would that Helen and her whole 
race were swept off the face of the earth, for hers 


142 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


is the fault that my master went away to Troy with 
Agamemnon ! ’ 

He went out and fetched from among the swine 
two sucking-pigs, which he slaughtered, and when they 
were roasted, he invited his guest to partake of them. 
4 Better,’ he said, 4 1 cannot offer thee, for the fat boars 
are consumed by the suitors. Knaves that they are ! 
They must be well-informed that my lord has perished, 
otherwise they would never dare to waste his goods. 
A richer man than my master is hardly to be found any- 
where. On the nearest mainland he has twelve herds 
of cattle, twelve of sheep, and twelve of goats, and here 
in Ithaca there are eleven herds of goats, besides the 
swine which are under my charge. All this will be 
consumed in time, and moreover the suitors are 
drinking up all the best wine in my master’s cellar.’ 

Ulysses eat and drank with great zest that the 
herdsman might not perceive how angry it made him 
to hear of the insolent proceedings of the suitors. 
Controlling his voice he presently asked, 4 Who then is 
thy lord ? I have come from far, and may be able to 
give thee news of him.’ 

4 That I could myself have told thee,’ answered 
Eumaeus, 4 for many have come and deluded us with 
vain hopes in order to secure a good reception. The 
queen sends for every stranger who lands in the island, 
and if they give her some news of her husband, she 
rewards them with rich presents ; but it is all a pack of 
lies. Thou also, thinkest now to earn for thyself a mantle 
and doublet, but do not expect to impose upon me ! 
Long ago the dogs and vultures have made a meal of his 
corpse, or else it has been devoured by the fishes of the 


THE SWINEHERD EUMAEUS. 


143 


sea. All his friends mourn for him, but no one mourns 
as I do, for such a master as he was shall I never again 
meet with. More than for my father or my mother 
do I long for the return of my beloved master Ulysses/ 

6 Ulysses,’ repeated his guest, 4 is that the name of 
thy master ? Hear then what I can tell thee, and by 
a solemn oath will I confirm it, — I swear by Zeus, and 
by this hospitable board, and by the hearth of Ulysses, 
that my words will be fulfilled. Within a year Ulysses 
will return, and for these good tidings will I take no 
reward until he has himself arrived.’ 

But Eumaeus remained unconvinced, and he shook 
his head, saying, 4 Thou wilt have long to wait, if thou 
tarriest till Ulysses comes. Speak to me no more of 
this, for it always makes me sad to think of him. Just 
now we have an additional anxiety, with regard to our 
young lord Telemachus. By the help of the gods he 
has grown up like a young sapling, and I hoped that 
one day he would be even such a man as his father. 
But some one, whether god or man I know not, has 
fooled him into going to Pylos to seek for news of his 
father, and now the suitors are lying in wait to kill 
him as he returns ; whether they will succeed, the 
gods only know. But come now, let us speak of some- 
thing else. Tell me who thou art, and why thou hast 
come hither.’ 

The crafty Ulysses immediately bethought him of 
a fresh tale to account for his appearance in the island, 
and at once began to relate it to the swineherd. 


144 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

ULYSSES RELATES A FEIGNED STORY TO THE 
SWINEHERD. 

4 1 have come,’ said Ulysses, 4 from Crete. I am the 
son of a rich man, but I had no fancy for leading 
an easy life at home, and finally succeeding to the 
inheritance of my father. My taste was rather for 
fighting and adventure, and sailing over the sea. I went 
to Troy with the other heroes, and after ten long years 
of warfare, returned in safety to Crete. For a month 
I was happy with my wife and children, but I could 
not rest at home, and I sailed for Egypt with nine 
ships. 

4 We had a favourable wind, and landed there on 
the fifteenth day. But it was in vain that I warned 
my companions not to venture far into the country ; 
they could not control their lust for booty, and they 
destroyed several villages, killing the men, and 
carrying off the women and children into captivity. 
Now when this was rumoured about in the city, the 
Egyptians assembled, and marched against our ships, 
filling the whole of the surrounding plain with the 
glitter of their weapons. 

4 We defended ourselves as well as we could, but 


ULYSSES RELATES A FEIGNED STORY. 145 


Zeus was against us, and we were obliged to flee. 
Many of us were slain, and many were taken prisoners. 
I met the king driving in his chariot over the battle- 
field, and throwing away my helmet, shield and spear, 
I threw myself down before him and embraced his 
knees, imploring him to spare my life. He had pity 
on me, bade me mount into the chariot by his side, 
and protected me from the fury of the Egyptians, who 
would have killed me with their spears. After this 
I remained for seven years among the Egyptians, and 
fared well enough, for all with whom I had any inter- 
course gave me presents. 

4 In the eighth year, there came thither a Phenician 
ship, of which the master promised me that if I would 
sail away with him, he would take me to my home. 
But he was a cheat. Instead of sailing to Crete, he re- 
turned to Phenicia, and there I had to remain for a year. 
At the end of that time he offered to take me to Libya, 
saying that he would pay me well for my services, 
though in truth he intended to sell me for a slave. 
Things turned out however very differently from his 
expectations. When we were in the open sea, there 
arose a storm of wind, rain, thunder and lightning; 
the beams were loosened one from the other, and the 
sailors fell into the sea and soon sank beneath the 
waves. 

‘ By the help of Zeus, I succeeded in laying hold of 
the mast, and for nine days I was tossed about on the 
sea. On the tenth day I was cast by the waves on the 
coast of the Threspotians. Here the king’s son chanced 
to discover me, and he had pity on me and took me to 


146 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


the house of his father, who also received me kindly, 
and gave me food and clothes. 

4 It was here that I heard of Ulysses. The king 
said that he had landed in that country on his way 
home, and he showed me the treasure he had brought 
with him, — treasure indeed that will outlast his 
children and his children’s children. Ulysses himself 
had gone to Dodona to listen to the rustling of the 
sacred Oak, and take counsel of the gods as to whether 
he should at once make himself known on reaching his 
home, or should keep his return a secret. The ship 
was already put out to sea, and everything was prepared 
for the voyage to Ithaca. 

‘ I did not myself see Ulysses, for the king sent me 
off in a ship that was going to Dulichium, thinking 
that the king of that island would further speed me on 
my way. But the sailors plotted to sell me into 
slavery ; they took off the clothes which the king had 
given me, and put on me instead these miserable rags 
in which thou now seest me. Yesterday evening they 
landed to have a feast and spend the night on the 
shore, and they left me bound in the ship. By the 
help of the gods, I managed however to unfasten the 
knots ; it was already dark, and I crawled to the edge 
of the rudder, and dropped down from it into the sea ; 
then I swam to the land, and made my way to a thickly 
wooded copse near by. In the morning the sailors 
searched everywhere for me, but they did not discover 
my hiding-place, and were obliged to sail aw T ay without 
me. Thus have I come to thee, and I rejoice to have 
met with so friendly a reception.’ 

Eumaeus had listened to the story with great 


ULYSSES RELATES A FEIGNED STORY. 


147 


interest, and now he said, 4 The tale of thy misfortunes 
has touched my heart, but for this I blame thee, that 
thou wouldst make me hope for the speedy return of 
my master. I have lost all confidence in such reports 
as thou bringest, since a man came here from Aetolia 
whom I assisted in his distress, and who in return 
imposed upon me with a story of how he had seen 
Ulysses in Crete, repairing his ships, and how Ulysses 
had told him that the next summer, or at latest in the 
autumn, he would be at home again. Thou mayest 
spare thyself such idle tales, for it is not on this 
account that I entertain thee, but for fear of Zeus, and 
out of compassion for thee.’ 

4 Thou art over distrustful,’ answered Ulysses, 4 in 
that thou wilt not believe that which I have sworn to 
thee with an oath. Let us now make a compact. If 
Ulysses comes within the time I named, thou shalt 
give me a new garment, but if he fails to arrive, then 
mayest thou cast me down from some high rock as a 
warning to others.’ 

But Eumaeus replied, 4 That would in truth win 
for me a good reputation ! First I take thee into my 
house and entertain thee, and then I lay hands upon 
thee and shed thy blood ! With what confidence should 
I then make my prayer to Zeus ! Speak not again of 
this. My men will be here immediately from the field, 
for it is time to get ready the evening meal.’ 

At this moment they heard the swine returning 
home, making a great noise as they came, and when 
they had been driven into their sties, the herdsmen 
entered the hut. Eumaeus said to them, 4 Bring hither 
7* 


148 


THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 


the best of tffe boars. In honour of our guest we will • 
sacrifice him to the gods, and at the same time make a 
feast for ourselves. This indeed we have a good right 
to do, for we have all the labour of tending the swine, 
and they are consumed by others with whom we have 
no concern.’ 

The men were not loth to obey, and quickly fetched 
in the boar. The pious Eumaeus performed the sacri- 
fice in the accustomed manner, and prayed to the gods 
to hasten the return of his master. When the flesh 
was roasted, he divided it into seven portions ; one, for 
the nymphs and the messenger- god Hermes he laid in 
the flames that the odour might ascend to the gods, — 
the other six were for himself, his guest, and his four 
men, the best being given to Ulysses. Eumaeus also 
mixed wine and water, and poured it out into wooden 
cups. 

When everyone had finished, they prepared for 
sleep. It was a stormy night, with pouring rain and 
a keen wind blowing. Ulysses was afraid of freezing 
in his scanty beggar’s clothing, and wished for a mantle 
to cover him ; quickly therefore he invented another 
tale, as a means of getting what he wanted. 

‘Ye know,’ he began, ‘that wine is wont to make 
men inclined for speech, therefore be not surprised at 
my telling you a story about Ulysses that has just come 
into my mind. It was when we were before Troy, that 
one night Ulysses and Menelaiis conducted a band of 
men to reconnoitre close beneath the city walls, and 
took me with them as third in command. There was 
some marshy ground overgrown with weeds, where we 
lay crouching beneath our shields. It was a bitter cold 


ULYSSES RELATES A FEIGNED STORY. 


149 


night, with falling snow, and the shields were soon 
covered with ice. The others had been prudent and 
had taken w T arm cloaks with them, but I had scarcely 
anything on but my doublet, and thought I should have 
perished from the cold. 

4 1 touched Ulysses, who was lying next to me, and 
said, 44 The frost will kill me. Fool that I am, I have 
come without my mantle.” Ulysses whispered back, 
44 Stay still, do not say anything to the others.” Then 
he raised his voice and said aloud, 44 Friends, the gods 
have warned me by a dream that we are not wise in 
having ventured to this distance from the ships with 
so small a number of men. Let someone run swiftly 
back to Agamemnon and bid him send us some help.” 
Immediately one of the men rose up to take the 
message, and as his cloak would have been a hindrance 
to him in running, he left it behind, and I took it, and 
soon became warm. Oh ! would that I were now as 
young and as well-beloved as in those days, then 
should I not now be in danger of freezing with the 
cold ! ’ 

Eumaeus was delighted with this anecdote of 
Ulysses, and was the more willing to fall in with the 
wishes of his guest. He said, 4 Stranger, thou shalt 
have a mantle, but in the morning thou must return 
it to me, for we are poor folk, and have no superfluity 
of garments.’ He prepared a couch for Ulysses beside 
the hearth, and covered him with a cloak ; but as for 
himself, he was accustomed to battle through the cold 
of hard winters, and fearing that the bad weather 
might be taken advantage of by thieves, he determined 
to spend the night in the cave outside, beside the boars, 


150 


THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 


who were protected only by the dogs. He therefore 
hung his sword round his shoulders, wrapped himself 
in a warm mantle, and, with a spear in his hand, went 
out and lay down beside them. 

Ulysses rejoiced in his heart to see the devotion of 
the swineherd to the interests of his absent lord. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


MENELAUS SPEEDS HIS DEPARTING GUEST. 

All this time, Telemachus was still at Sparta with 
Pisistratus. One night, as he lay awake thinking of 
his father, he suddenly perceived a beautiful shining 
form standing beside his couch. It was Athene, and 
she said to him, 6 It is high time for thee to return to 
Ithaca, and see to thine affairs. The suitors are lying 
in wait to kill thee on the sea between Samos and 
Ithaca, but sail thou cautiously, taking another course, 
and so shalt thou escape them. When thou hast 
reached the coast of Ithaca, send thy ship forward to 
the city, but go thyself to the swineherd Eumaeus, 
and desire him to acquaint thy mother of thy safe 
return.’ 

As she spoke these words, the goddess vanished, 
and Telemachus resolved to carry out her instructions 
without delay, though he little guessed the reason for 
which she had bidden him go to the swineherd, namely 
that he might there meet his father, and consult with 
him as to the best means of attacking the suitors. As 
soon as the morning dawned, he rose from his couch 
and went out to Menelaiis, whom he found already 
seated upon the stone bench. He told him that his 


152 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


heart was set upon an immediate return to his home 
and begged his host to hasten his departure. Menelaiis 
would have been glad to detain the son of his dearest 
friend for a much longer time, but he would not keep 
him against his will, and prepared to speed him on his 
way. 

In those days, the affection which a host bore to 
his guest could be tested by the splendour of the gifts 
which he presented to him at parting. For Tele- 
machus, Menelaiis brought out from his treasure- 
chamber the most beautiful of all his possessions, a 
great silver mixing-bowl with golden rims which had 
once been given to him by a king of Phenicia, and 
Helen chose from among her garments the finest and 
most richly worked of all ; it had been woven by the 
queen herself, and she gave it to Telemachus to be the 
wedding-dress of his future bride. 

Presently the chariot was standing at the door, and 
when the two young men had taken their places, 
Menelaiis held out to them a brimming cup of wine 
from which to drink a parting draught. 4 Farewell ye 
youths,’ he said, 6 and bear my greetings to the aged 
Nestor, who was ever kind to me as a father.’ 

Telemachus answered, 4 We will not fail to deliver 
thy message. Ah ! would that I could hope to find 
my father Ulysses at home ! With what joy would I 
tell him how kindly and heartily thou hast welcomed 
his son.’ 

Just then an eagle flew by from the right, with a 
great goose in his claws, which he had stolen from the 
farm-yard. Menelaiis felt sure it must be a token from 
the gods, and Helen, who was standing beside him, 


MENELAUS SPEEDS HIS DEPARTING GUEST. 153 

said, 4 1 will give yon the interpretation of the message, 
as the gods have put it into my heart. As the eagle 
has swooped down from the mountains, bringing sudden 
destruction to the goose, so will Ulysses return to his 
home, and punish the suitors in like manner. At this 
very moment he may have already arrived.’ 

4 May Zeus grant it ! ’ replied Telemachus joyfully. 
4 Then will I ever think of thee, 0 queen, as of a 
goddess.’ 

Telemachus and Pisistratus returned by the same 
way that they had come. Towards the end of the 
second day, when they were nearing Pylos, Telemachus 
begged his companion to let him proceed at once to 
his ship, for his impatience to be again in Ithaca was 
increasing with every step of the journey. Pisistratus 
knew that this would be a disappointment to his father, 
who was hoping to entertain the son of Ulysses as 
before, on his way to Sparta ; but he yielded to the 
urgent entreaties of his friend, and drove him direct 
to the shore. The two young men parted with mutual 
assurances of the warmest affection. Pisistratus re- 
turned to Pylos, and Telemachus, after sacrificing a 
burnt-offering to Athene, took ship for Ithaca. 


154 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

EUMAEUS RELATES HIS PAST HISTORY. 

Meanwhile, in the hut of the swineherd, Ulysses and 
Eumaeus, sitting together at their meal one evening, 
fell as usual into talk, and in order to test the hospitality 
of his host, Ulysses said to him, ‘ Early to-morrow 
morning will I go into the city, that I may no longer 
continue to be a burden to thee. To the queen I will 
tell what I know concerning Ulysses, and then offer my 
services to the suitors, for well enough, thank the gods, 
do I understand how to make myself useful to great 
lords. I can split wood, roast flesh, carve meat, and 
.pour out wine.’ 

£ Is it then to the suitors that thou thinkest of 
going ? ’ answered Eumaeus. 6 Badly wilt thou fare 
amongst them, — thou little knowest how insolent they 
are. Moreover, they are accustomed to be served by 
those who are very different from thyself, who are 
young, well dressed and well favoured. Remain here 
with me ; thou art burdensome to no one, and when 
my young master returns, he will give thee a mantle 
and doublet, and will send thee to thy friends.’ 

Ulysses agreed to this, and added, ‘ If then I am 
to await the return of thy young master, tell me some- 


EUMAEUS RELATES HIS PAST HISTORY. 155 


tiling more of his father’s family. The parents of 
Ulysses, are they yet alive ? ’ 

4 The aged Laertes lives indeed,’ replied Eumaeus, 
4 but there is nothing that he more ardently desires 
than death, for he is bowed down with sorrow on 
account of his long-lost son, and of his wife who 
died of grief many years ago. She was in truth a 
woman to bemoan ! When in my early childhood 
I was brought as a slave to this country, she treated 
me with the utmost kindness, as if she had been rather 
a mother than a mistress, making no difference between 
myself and her own daughter who was just of the same 
age. When I was grown up, she sent me out into the 
country, and here I have ever since served her, and 
continued to enjoy her regard.’ 

Ulysses then asked, as if he had never heard the 
story before, how Eumaeus had become a slave, and 
the swineherd replied, 4 Little did I think when I was 
a child that I should one day have to serve as a slave 
in a strange land. I was born in the island of Syria, 
far, very far from this country, — a land where hunger 
and disease are alike unknown, and where the inhabi- 
tants, when they become old, die a peaceful, sudden 
death. 

4 My father was the king of the island, and among 
his slaves was a Phenician woman who was my nurse. 
When I was a little boy, there came to the island a 
Phenician ship, bringing merchandise for sale, and 
amongst the crew my nurse discovered a former friend, 
who told her that her parents were still alive, and filled 
her with a great desire to return to her own country. 
The ship-men promised to take her back with them, 


156 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

but told her that she must say nothing about it, nor 
appear to recognise them if she should meet them in 
the streets, but that when they had disposed of their 
wares and were ready to depart, they would send her 
word. She had agreed to take me with her, instead 
of passage-money, that they might sell me as a slave, 
and promised also to bring anything else of value on 
which she could lay her hands. 

4 It was about a year before the sailors had trans- 
acted all their business. At the end of that tim£, 
they sent one of their number to my mother with a 
golden, necklace, which they offered for sale, and while 
the waiting-women were standing round, admiring and 
handling the beautiful ornament, the sailor who had 
brought it gave my nurse the signal that had been 
agreed upon. 

‘ She at once seized me by the hand, and led me 
away as if she were going to take me out for a walk. 
Passing through the hall, she snatched up three of 
the silver goblets that stood upon the table and hid 
them in her dress ; then she hurried me through the 
streets towards the shore. In the innocence of my 
heart I was quite content to go with her to the ship 
and sail away, though as time went on and we got 
farther and farther from the shore, I began to long for 
my father and mother, and cried bitterly. 

‘My nurse was not destined, however, to gain 
anything by her treachery, for on the seventh day she 
was seized with illness and fell down dead suddenly. 
The sailors threw her corpse into the sea, and brought 
me to Ithaca, where they sold me to King Laertes. 
It was a happy thing for me that I found so kind a 


EUMAEUS RELATES HIS PAST HISTORY. 157 

master, and if Ulysses would but come back and take 
his rightful place as king of this island, I should have 
no desire to return to my home.’ 

By the time Eumaeus had ended his story it was 
already far on into the night, and he and Ulysses 
retired to rest. 


158 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE MEETING OF ULYSSES Alfr) TELEMACHUS. 

The ship of Telemachus succeeded in avoiding the 
ambush of the suitors, and came to shore the next 
morning, not far from the dwelling of Eumaeus. From 
this place Telemachus bade his companions sail on 
without him into the city, saying that he would 
himself follow them later, and would then have a 
banquet prepared for them as an acknowledgment of 
their services in accompanying him on his journey. 

The ship pushed off again, and Telemachus went 
forward to the enclosure of Eumaeus. When he came 
near, the dogs perceived his approach and rushed out 
to meet him ; and Ulysses, hearing also the sound of 
footsteps, said to Eumaeus, who was just then preparing 
the morning meal, ‘ There is some one at hand who 
seems to be well known to thee, for the dogs do not 
bark, but run to fawn upon him.’ 

As he spoke, Telemachus stood in the doorway, 
and with a cry of joy Eumaeus let the vessel in which 
he was mixing the wine fall to the ground, and 
hastened towards his young master, kissing his feet 
and hands with tears of joy. ‘At last , 5 he exclaimed, 
‘ thou hast returned, thou the delight of my eyes ! I 


THE MEETING OF ULYSSES AND TELEMACHUS. 159 

feared lest I should never more behold thee. Come 
within, that I may enjoy thy visit to the full. Too 
seldom dost thou come out to us herdsmen in the 
country — as if it were so agreeable to thee to dwell 
among the suitors ! ’ 

Thus speaking, he took the spear from the hand of 
his beloved guest, and Telemachus hastened to enquire 
concerning his mother. 6 She is, alas ! even more 
sorrowful than before,’ replied Eumaeus. 4 All her days 
and nights are passed in tears.’ 

Telemachus now entered the hut, and Ulysses rose 
from his seat to make room for him, but the young 
man said, c Disturb not thyself, stranger ; in the court- 
yard I shall easily find another seat.’ Eumaeus was 
already arranging some skins over a heap of twigs 
to make a comfortable seat for his guest, and he 
proceeded to busy himself in setting meat, wine and 
bread before him. When Telemachus enquired who 
the stranger was, he answered, 4 He comes from Crete. 
He has travelled far and suffered much. I give him 
over into thy hands, that thou mayest provide for him.’ 

Bitterly Telemachus replied , 4 How dost thou suppose 
that I can invite him to my house ? I am still young, 
and not strong enough to protect him from the insults 
to which he would be exposed. If it seems good to thee, 
keep him here, rather. I will send him a mantle and 
doublet, and provisions for his maintenance, that he 
may not consume thy goods. So long as the suitors 
continue in our house, there is no security against insult 
and outrage for a friendless stranger, such as this man.’ 

Ulysses now spoke. 4 Friend,’ he said, 4 it grieves me 
to hear that thou hast in thine house unbidden guests 


160 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


who disturb thy peace. Canst thou in no wise dis- 
possess them? Were I the son of Ulysses, still more 
were I Ulysses himself, I wager my head that I would 
not delay to pit myself against them. Even should they 
through their greater superiority in numbers overcome 
me, I would rather perish than witness day by day the 
renewal of their evil deeds.’ 

4 If thou knewest how many they are,’ answered 
Telemachus, 4 thou wouldst be convinced that the gods 
alone can put an end to them. Alas ! would that they 
might accomplish it, and that speedily ! ’ He then 
turned to Eumaeus and said, 6 Go into the city without 
delay, and carry word to my mother that I am here, 
but tell her this alone and in secret, for I have many 
foes who seek to take my life.’ 

Eumaeus tied his sandals on to his feet, and set off 
for the city, leaving Ulysses and Telemachus alone in 
the hut. The door stood open, and Ulysses presently 
perceived in the court-yard the figure of a tall woman 
beckoning to him, whom he recognised as the goddess 
Athene. The dogs were also aware of her presence 
and crouched away, whining, but Telemachus saw no- 
thing. 

Ulysses went out in obedience to her gesture, and 
Athene said to him, 4 It is now time for thee to make 
thyself known to thy son, and consult with him as to 
how thou mayest overcome the suitors. I will stand 
by you both in the fight.’ She touched him with her 
golden staff, and in a moment he was again a king in 
appearance, — tall and stately, with clear commanding 
eyes, and dressed in the princely garments in which he 
had landed on the island. 


THE MEETING OF ULYSSES AND TELEMACHUS. 161 

Thus he returned into the hut to Telemachus, who 
was filled with surprise and awe at the change that had 
come over him, and turned away his eyes, saying., 
fi What is this ? Stranger, thou must surely be some 
god. Be gracious to me and forbear to harm me, and 
I will honour thee with offerings and duteous gifts.’ 

But Ulysses replied, 4 No god am I, but thy father, 
for whom thou hast sorrowed so long ; ’ and as he spoke 
he embraced his son, while the tears rolled down his 
cheeks. 

Telemachus could not however believe him. 4 How,’ 
said he, 4 should any other than a god change himself 
in so marvellous a manner ? But now, thou wast a 
miserable old man, and in a moment thou art become 
like unto the gods.’ 

With yet more tenderness in his tones, Ulysses made 
answer, 4 In vain wilt thou look for any other Ulysses, for 
I am he, — who in the twentieth year, after long wan- 
derings, and many toils and sufferings, have returned 
to my home. What thou hast seen is the work of 
Athene, who can as easily turn a king into a beggar, 
as restore the beggar to the appearance of a king.’ 

After this, Telemachus no longer doubted his happi- 
ness, and the father and son remained long clasped in 
each other’s arms, weeping for sorrow over the past, and 
for joy at finding one another again. 

Ulysses told his son how he had been brought to 
Ithaca by the Pheacians, and then desired Telemachus 
to reckon up the number of the suitors, that they might 
consider whether they two would be able alone to over- 
come them, or whether it would be necessary to call in 
the aid of others. 


162 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


Telemachus replied, 4 Much indeed have I heard 
of thy power, and of thy strength and courage, but yet 
their numbers are so great that we alone should never 
be able to make head against them. From Dulichium 
there are fifty- two suitors and with them six serving 
men ; from Samos twenty- four ; from Zacynthus twenty ; 
and of those that belong to Ithaca, there are twelve. 
Therefore it is needful to consider whether thou canst 
procure us any other help.’ 

With a smile Ulysses made answer, 4 How thinkest 
thou ? Does it seem to thee that the help of Athene 
and of Father Zeus will suffice, or shall I seek for 
other aid ? ’ 

Telemachus now perceived that he might dismiss 
from his mind all anxiety with regard to the conflict, 
and Ulysses explained to him how he was to act. 
4 Early to-morrow morning,’ said he, 4 thou must return 
to the city, and live among the suitors as hithertp. 
Later in the day, Eumaeus shall conduct me thither 
also. Should the suitors insult me and ill-treat me, 
should they even drag me along the ground by the feet, 
do not thou interfere ; thou mayest indeed endeavour 
to dissuade them, but they will not hear thee, for they 
must fulfil their doom. Neither do thou reveal to 
anyone that I am here, not to Laertes nor Penelope 
herself ; neither must Eumaeus know it as yet.’ 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


THE SUITORS MAKE A NEW CONSPIRACY. 

Before this time, the ship of Telemachus had reached 
the city, and immediately a herald was sent to the 
queen, to announce the safe return of her son. He 
reached the palace just at the same moment as Eumaeus, 
who was thus prevented from giving his message in 
private, for the herald made his announcement before 
all the maidens, and as some of them were of the party 
of the suitors, it was not long before they also were 
acquainted with the news. 

They were much astonished at hearing it, and went 
out to talk over the matter in secret. First they 
decided to let Antinoiis know that Telemachus, for 
whom he was lying in wait on the sea, was already in 
Ithaca ; but just at that moment they saw his ship 
coming into the harbour, and they all went down to 
the shore to meet him, and consult with him as to 
what should be their next course. 

Antinoiis had neglected no means of making sure 
of his prey. All day long, spies had been stationed on 
the mountains, keeping a look-out for the ship of Tele- 
machus, and in the night time Antinoiis had sailed 
about, scouring the sea in all directions with the utmost 
perseverance, and yet his designs had failed. It was 
8 


164 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


his opinion that it would be well to seek out Tele- 
machus, and slay him. ‘ Have ye not observed/ he 
cried, ‘ that he has lately become quite audacious, and 
that the people are much less friendly to us than of 
yore ? Now will he complain of us to the townsfolk, 
and they will rise up against us and drive us out from 
among them. There is nothing for it but that we 
should forestall him ; and either in the country where 
he now tarries, or else on his way into the city, we 
must surprise and kill him.’ 

But Amphinomus, who was the most cautious of 
the suitors, spoke against this. ‘My friends,’ he said, 
‘ if ye are of my mind, ye will forbear to lay hands on 
Telemachus, for a violent and an evil deed it is to slay 
the scion of an ancient stock of kings. First let us 
enquire of the gods. If they approve the deed, I am 
ready with my own hands to accomplish it, but should 
they refuse their sanction, we must not attempt it.’ 
The other suitors declared themselves to be of the same 
opinion, and all returned together to the palace. 

From the faithful herald Medon, Penelope soon 
heard of the new conspiracy against the life of her son, 
and she resolved to go down and expostulate with the 
suitors. They were sitting in the hall, eating and 
drinking, when she came and stood in the doorway, and 
addressing herself to Antinoiis, said to him, ‘Thou 
madman ! how canst thou think of taking the life of the 
son of Ulysses? Hast thou never heard, or altogether 
forgotten, that Ulysses once saved thy father from 
death ? The people had risen up against him and 
would have taken his life ; then he fled to our house 
and craved the protection of Ulysses, and he — my 


THE SUITORS MAKE A NEW CONSPIRACY. 165 


husband — went out and stayed the fury of the moo, and 
saved him. In return for this, it seems well to thee to 
consume his goods, and now thou wilt slay his son ! 9 

Antinoiis was silent, but Eurymachus, the other 
leader of the suitors, answered for him. 4 Noble queen,’ 
he cried, 4 fear nothing ! So long as I live, shall no 
one here lay hands upon thy son. If anyone ventures 
to attempt it, my spear will soon be stained with his 
blood. Pk)r I remember well, how, when I was a child, 
I used often to sit upon the knees of Ulysses, while he 
gave me food, and held his cup for me to drink, and 
therefore is Telemachus of all men the dearest to me.’ 
So spoke the treacherous Eurymachus, but in his heart 
he thought only how he might destroy Telemachus. His 
words could give no comfort to Penelope, for she knew 
how little they were worth, and sadly she returned to 
her own room. 

Towards evening, Eumaeus returned to his home- 
stead. As he approached, the noble form of Ulysses 
shrank again into the mean appearance of the beggar, 
for Athene had drawn nigh invisibly and touched him 
with her wand, — and thus Eumaeus found the two that 
he had left, the prince and the poor beggar. 

He related how he had reached the palace at the 
same moment as the herald, and how on his vray home 
he had seen a ship making for the harbour, bright with 
gleaming shields and weapons, which was no doubt the 
ship of Antinoiis. As he said this, Telemachus looked 
at his father and smiled, unperceived by Eumaeus. 
He meant to convey to him that there were worse things 
in store for the suitors than this failure of their plans. 


166 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

ULYSSES COMES TO THE PALACE AND IS RECOGNISED BY 
THE HOUND ARGUS. 

Telemachus rose early the next morning, and began to 
prepare for his departure to the city. He said to 
Eumaeus, c I must go without delay to my mother, for 
she will not cease to grieve until she has seen me with 
her own eyes. Bring the stranger also into the city, that 
he may beg in the streets and in the palace, for in my 
miserable situation I am unable to help others.’ And 
with these words he went away. 

When Telemachus entered the palace, the first to 
see him was the aged Eurycleia, who hastened towards 
him with tears of joy. The other faithful maid-servants 
gathered round him also, and kissed him on the head 
and shoulders. Their exclamations of pleasure brought 
the queen from her chamber, and clasping her son in 
her arms, she kissed him over and over again. ‘ So 
thou hast in truth returned ! ’ she cried. 4 In very deed 
thou art here, my heart’s delight ! Hardly did I dare 
to hope that I should ever see thee again.’ 

She asked him what news he had heard during his 
travels regarding the fate of his father, and when 
Telemachus told her how the sea-god Proteus had 


ULYSSES IS RECOGNISED BY THE HOUND ARGUS. 167 

assured Menelaiis that Ulysses was still alive, though 
detained by a nymph on her island, a hope that all 
might yet be well once more stirred the breast of 
Penelope. 

Telemachus next went to the market-place to speak 
to his travelling companions, and the suitors all came 
round him and greeted him as if they had been his 
best friends, but he disengaged himself from them, and 
talked only with the old friends of his father. 

Ulysses waited till midday in the hut of Eumaeus ; 
he feared, he said, to die of cold if he set out early in 
the morning in his scanty clothing, but when the sun 
was high in the heaven, he tied his beggar’s wallet 
round his neck, and taking in his hand a stout cudgel 
which he found in the hut, he set out, accompanied by 
his host. 

On their way, they came to a spring, from which 
the maidens of the city were accustomed to fetch water. 
The space all round it had been planted by former 
kings of Ithaca with black poplar trees, which flourished 
in the damp soil and cast a cool shade ; and upon the 
rock above, an altar had been erected, at which the 
passers-by were in the habit of offering their homage 
to the nymphs of the spring. 

At this place, Ulysses and Eumaeus fell in with the 
goatherd Melanthius, who was taking some of his finest 
goats to the city for the feast of the suitors. Melan- 
thius was by no means of the same mind as Eumaeus, 
for he held with the suitors, and wdshed that Ulysses 
might never come back. When he saw Eumaeus and 
the beggar, he immediately began to revile them. 

4 Truly,’ he cried, c here is one knave conducting another. 


168 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

“ Like goes with like,” as the saying has it. What 
does the scoundrel want in the city ? are there not 
enough beggars there already ? If the beggar is really 
willing to do honest work, let him come to my goat- 
farm and serve as a watchman. He might clean out 
the stalls, and strew leaves for the young goats to lie 
upon. Then he would get whey to drink, and would 
grow fat and strong. But of course he will not work ; 
begging suits him much better. He had better beware, 
though, of going to the suitors in the palace, unless 
he is prepared to have stools flying at his head.’ 

As he spoke, he stepped up to Ulysses, and gave 
him a violent kick upon the hip. He thought that 
the beggar would totter to the ground, but Ulysses 
stood firm. It would have been easy for him to strike 
the impudent fellow dead with a single blow, but he 
controlled his anger, in order to keep up his character 
of a beggar. 

Eumaeus raised his hands to the altar above the 
spring, and cried out, 4 Oh, that the nymphs might 
grant a speedy return to Ulysses ! Then would thine 
insolence be driven out of thee, Melanthius ! and a 
stop would be put to thy loitering about in the city, 
neglecting the flocks of thy master.’ 

With a contemptuous smile, Melanthius replied, 
4 Is it the return of Ulysses for which thou art looking, 
— now in the twentieth year ? I would I were as sure 
that Telemachus had perished, as I am that his father 
is long since dead.’ And with these words he went his 
way. 

Ulysses and the swineherd also made their way to 
the city, and found themselves, before long, in front of 


ULYSSES IS RECOGNISED BY THE HOUND ARGUS. 169 


the palace. Ulysses concealed his emotion, and made 
as though he saw the home of his youth for the first 
time. He praised and admired the noble pile, and 
added, 4 There must be many guests in the house, for 
even at this distance I can perceive the odour of roasted 
flesh, and hear the lute which accompanies the song of 
the minstrel.’ 

Presently they saw, lying upon a heap of refuse in 
the court-yard, an aged hound, so weak that he could 
hardly move. His name was Argus, and long ago, 
before he went to the war, Ulysses had himself taken 
much pains to train him, hoping that he would become 
a valuable sporting-dog. Since then, twenty years had 
passed, but nevertheless the faithful animal recognised 
the voice of his master ; he pricked his ears, tried to 
raise his head, and wagged his tail, though slowly and 
feebly. Gladly would he have crawled towards him, 
but for this he was now too weak. 

When Ulysses saw how faithfully his old hound 
had remembered him, the tears came into his eyes, 
and he was obliged to turn away, that Eumaeus might 
not observe him. Then he said with seeming indiffer- 
ence, 4 The dog still retains evidence of former beauty. 
Was he a sporting-dog, or only fit to be played with in 
the house ? ’ 

4 He was our best sporting-dog,’ answered Eumaeus. 
4 He could hunt out the wild animals from the thickest 
cover, and not easily did they escape him. He deserves 
a better fate in his old age, but his master is away, 
and the servant maids, who ought to look after him, 
give themselves no trouble. He is sick, and covered 
with vermin. Let us now enter the hall separately. 


170 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


I will go first, and thou shalt wait a short time, and 
then follow me.’ 

When Ulysses found himself alone in the court- 
yard, he went up to the dog and stood looking at him 
with deep emotion. But the joy of seeing his beloved 
master again was more than, in his weak condition, the 
faithful creature could bear, and in a few moments lie 
was dead. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


ULYSSES AMONG THE SUITORS. 

Ulysses now went into the hall, and crouched on his 
own threshold in the guise of a beggar. When Tele- 
machus saw him, he took a whole loaf, and as much 
meat as he could hold in both hands, and desired 
Eumaeus, who was sitting near him, to take it to the 
beggar and bid him also beg from the suitors. Ulysses 
thanked him for the bounteous gift, and said, ‘ May 
the gods grant to Telemachus his heart’s desire ! ’ Then 
he laid his beggar’s wallet upon the ground, and placing 
the bread and meat upon it, he eat as if he had long 
fasted. 

When the song of the minstrel was at an end, 
Ulysses rose, and going from one to another of the 
suitors, he begged with outstretched hand, as if he 
were well accustomed to do so. They all gave him 
something and asked where the strange beggar came 
from, but when Melanthius said, 4 It is Eumaeus who 
has brought him here,’ Antinoiis rebuked Eumaeus. 
4 Wherefore hast thou brought another beggar,’ he said, 
‘ to add to those we have already ? Is not thy lord’s 
substance sufficiently consumed as it is ? ’ 

But Telemachus answered, ‘The gods forbid that 
8 * 


172 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


any beggar should be turned away from these doors. 
Give him as much as it pleaseth thee; neither my 
mother nor I will grudge it. But this is just like 
thee, Antinoiis — thou art willing enough to feast thy- 
self, but wouldst not that another should have aught.’ 

Antinoiis laughed scornfully, and raising the stool 
which was under his feet, 4 If all were to give him as 
much as I,’ he said, swinging the stool, 4 we should see 
no more of him in this house for at least the next three 
months.’ 

Ulysses now came close to him, and said, 4 Friend, 
give me something. I too have been rich, and have 
had many servants and everything that wealth could 
give me, — and in those days I gave to the poor who 
begged from me. But Zeus sent heavy misfortune to 
overtake me, and since then I have been driven about 
from place to place, suffering many hardships, and now 
I beg my bread, here in Ithaca.’ 

His manly words offended Antinoiis, for they seemed 
to imply that he also might some day be reduced to 
misery, and in a harsh voice he bade the beggar begone 
from his table. As he turned away, Ulysses said, 4 If 
from the table of another thou canst not bring thyself to 
give the least morsel, one may be sure that thou wouldst 
never in thine own house give so much as a grain of salt 
to a beggar.’ 

At this Antinoiis grew angry, and crying out, 4 It 
shall be the worse for thee that thou darest to revile 
me,’ he threw his stool at Ulysses and hit him in the 
back, on the right shoulder. The blow was a powerful 
one, but Ulysses stood as firm as a rock, and shaking 


ULYSSES AMONG THE SUITORS. 1 73 

his head in silence, he thought of the reckoning that 
was at hand. 

The other suitors were filled with horror at the deed 
of Antinoiis, and one of them said, 4 It was not well 
done, that thou didst strike the beggar. Who knows 
whether he may not be some god ? For often do the 
gods appear in the form of beggars to prove men, 
whether they are hard of heart, or are god-fearing and 
kind to strangers.’ 

Telemachus was scarcely able to control himself, but 
he remembered the instructions of his father, and 
kept aloof, as though he had nothing to do with him. 

Penelope was sitting with her maidens in the 
adjoining chamber, from which she could see and hear 
all that passed in the hall. When Antinoiis threw the 
foot-stool, she said softly, 4 Oh that Apollo might thus 
smite thee with one of his arrows ! ’ and the house- 
dame who was beside her, added, 4 If our wishes could 
take effect, not one of them would see to-morrow’s 
dawn.’ 

The queen beckoned to Eumaeus to come to her, 
and desired him to bring in the beggar, for she wished 
to ask him if he had heard anything of Ulysses, since 
he had travelled so much. 4 Yea, 0 queen,’ answered 
Eumaeus, 4 he has indeed much to tell. For the last 
three days and three nights he has been in my hut, but 
he has not yet come to an end of the tale of his adven- 
tures. And one never grows tired of hearing him ; one 
listens as attentively as if it were a singer, who was 
telling the most enchanting stories. He has come from 
Crete, and he says that he has heard of Ulysses, who 


174 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


tarries in the land of the Threspotians, and is shortly 
coming home, laden with treasures. 

Penelope was filled with joy, and cried, ‘Oh, if 
Ulysses were to return, what bloody vengeance he would 
take upon the suitors ! ’ At that moment, Telemachus 
gave a loud sneeze in the hall, and the hopes of the 
queen rose high, for among the Greeks it was held to 
be a sure sign that a wish would be fulfilled^ if some- 
one sneezed at the moment it was uttered. 

Eumaeus went back to Ulysses, and delivered the 
message with which Penelope had charged him ; but he 
replied, ‘ I fear the suitors, for when that man ill-treated 
me, neither Telemachus nor any other came forward to 
protect me. Let Penelope restrain her impatience 
until the suitors have gone ; then will I tell her every- 
thing she wishes to hear.’ 

Eumaeus repeated these words to the queen, and 
then returned home to attend to his swine. 






CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


THE BEGGAR IRUS. 

Ulysses again sat down upon the threshold, and 
presently there came in from the street a man who 
looked ill-pleased when he saw the place already taken. 
He was a beggar of Ithaca whom the suitors had nick- 
named Irus, because, like the goddess Iris, who conveyed 
the messages of Zeus, he went on all the errands with 
which they commissioned him. He had grown big 
and stout, and could eat enough for three men, but he 
had no strength nor pluck. The stranger did not look 
likely to be a formidable enemy, so he cried out, 4 Gret 
thee gone from the door, old man, or else will I drag 
thee away by the legs. Look round, and thou wilt see 
that the lords in the hall are beckoning to me to let 
thee have a taste of my fists.’ 

With bent brows Ulysses answered, 4 1 am doing 
thee no harm, and do not grudge thy going into the 
hall and getting as much as thou canst. On the 
threshold there is room enough for us both. But be- 
ware of provoking me too far, for should the old man 
grow angry, he might handle thee in such a manner 
that thou wouldst forget to pay him back.’ 

Irus thought this was a mere boast, and said boldly, 


176 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


4 Very well then, gird thee for the fight. I will soon 
give thee some good bruises, and knock in thy teeth 
for thee. How dost thou expect to prosper against a 
younger man ? ’ 

Antinoiis had heard what passed, and he now cried 
out gaily to the others, 4 Here is a joke such as we 
have never enjoyed before. Irus and the strange beggar 
are challenging one another to fight. We will stand 
by, and set them on.’ 

At these words they all rose, laughing, and grouped 
themselves round the two beggars ; and in order to 
induce them to fight with the more zest, Antinoiis 
decreed a prize for the winner which might well stimu- 
late the ardour of a hungry beggar. Two dainty 
sausages of an enormous size were just then roasting 
before the fire, and of these the winner was to choose 
the best ; moreover, he alone in future was to be 
admitted to the feasts of the suitors. 

Ulysses placed himself carefully in position, saying, 
4 An old man must needs be timid when he has to fight 
with a younger than himself, especially when he has 
gone through so much as I have ; but hunger compels 
me to do my best. But swear to me, at least, that 
ye will not help Irus.’ They agreed to this, and 
Ulysses laid aside his clothes and girded himself with 
an apron. 

The suitors were astonished to see how powerful 
were his thighs, his shoulders and his breast, and they 
cried out , 4 Irus, Irus, look at the limbs of the old man ; 
thou wilt be an unfortunate Irus, even to the last.’ Irus 
was shaking with fright, and wishing with all his heart 
that he had never given the challenge ; even now, in 


THE BEGGAE IKUS. 


177 


spite of the disgrace, he would gladly have drawn back, 
but the servants stripped off his clothes and prepared 
him for the fight. 

He looked a piteous object as he stood there, 
trembling in every limb, and Antinoiis chid him. 
‘ Thou braggart,’ he said, 4 art thou afraid of the old 
man ? Thou hadst best pull thyself together, for I 
tell thee that if thou art beaten, I will have thee put 
into a ship and taken to King Echetus the Torturer, 
who will cut off thy nose and ears.’ At which words 
Irus only trembled the more. 

When the two stood up one against the other, each 
with his right hand raised to strike his adversary, 
Ulysses considered whether he should give Irus such a 
blow as to strike him dead, or should only smite him 
gently, and lay him on the ground. He decided on the 
latter course, for he feared lest otherwise he might 
betray who it was that had been disguised in the rags 
of the beggar. 

They both struck one another at the same moment ; 
— Irus hit Ulysses on the shoulder with a feeble blow, 
but Ulysses smote Irus on the cheek, breaking his 
jaw-bone ; and he fell upon the ground, howling. The 
suitors nearly died of laughter at the sight. Ulysses 
dragged the cowardly boaster by the feet through the 
court-yard, and propped him up against the wall ; then 
he placed a stick in his hand, and said, 4 Now thou 
canst keep off the swine and the dogs, but beware of 
presuming again to lord it over other beggars and 
strangers, or it may be still worse for thee the next time.’ 

Then he went quietly back to his place, put on his 
clothes, and hung his beggar’s scrip round his neck. 


178 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


The suitors came round him, and drank his health. 
4 May the gods grant thee the wish that lies nearest to 
thy heart,’ they said, little deeming — fools that they 
were — that they were thus drinking death and destruc- 
tion to themselves. 

Antinoiis, still laughing, brought him the largest 
of the two sausages, and Amphinomus gave him two 
loaves, saying, as he drank his health, 4 Mayest thou 
prosper, father, and may thy present misery be soon 
exchanged for happiness.’ 

It had not escaped the keen observation of Ulysses 
that Amphinomus was by far the best of the suitors, 
and wishing to warn him of the danger that was at 
hand, he said, 4 Thou appearest to me to have more 
understanding than the rest, Amphinomus. Hear then 
what I have to say. We men, in our days of good 
fortune, are apt to forget what may come to us in the 
way of adversity. I too was once a prosperous man, but 
I let myself be led away to do evil, and thus I fell into 
the miserable condition in which thou seest me. Ye 
suitors, in like manner, have fallen into the habit of 
doing evil in this house, and ye think not that Ulysses 
may yet return ; but I tell you that he will, yea he is 
already close at hand. Therefore may some god prompt 
thee to leave this house in time, for when he comes 
again beneath this roof, it will not be without bloodshed.’ 

Thus Ulysses spoke, and when he had poured out a 
libation to the gods, he drank, and gave back the cup 
to Amphinomus, who went away staggered by the 
warning he had received, and thinking anxiously about 
the future. l r et he could not make up his mind to 
forsake the merry feast in the palace, and he soon 
seated himself again in his old place. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


EVENING IN THE PALACE. 

It was now evening, and the maidens came in to light 
up the hall, bringing with them three braziers — huge 
dishes set on stands, in which dry wood was burnt. 
The fire had to be stirred from time to time, and the 
wood renewed whenever it was burnt down. This 
service was usually performed by the maidens, but 
Ulysses said to them, £ Go to the queen, and spin beside 
her this evening ; I will attend to the fire, and will not 
weary, even though the suitors should tarry till the 
dawn, for I have learnt how to endure.’ 

But the maidens derided him, and the most forward 
of them all, whose name was Melantho, turned a bold 
face to the stranger, and chid him. 6 Thou hast surely 
lost thy senses,’ she said. 6 Go rather to some smithy, 
or, into the porch of the market-place, and sleep there. 
Thou thinkest thyself a great one, now that thou hast 
got the better of the miserable Irus, but take heed lest 
a better than he shall come and drive thee from the 
house.’ Melantho had been brought up by the queen, 
who treated her like her own daughter, but she repaid 
her with mean ingratitude, and sided with the suitors. 

Ulysses looked darkly at her, and said in anger, ‘I will 


180 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


complain of thee to Telemachus, thou shameless one, 
and he will make thee suffer for what thou hast said ; ’ 
and at these words the maidens were frightened, and 
left the hall, for they saw that the beggar intended to 
carry out his threat. 

While Ulysses was attending to the fire, Eurymachus 
noticed the baldness of his head, which was part of the 
beggar-like appearance that Athene had given him, 
and he mocked at it, to raise a laugh among the rest. 
4 The beggar is worth something in the evening,’ he 
said, 4 for his head shines like a torch.’ All laughed at 
the rude jest, and Eurymachus continued, 4 Thou 
mightest make thyself useful on my estate and earn 
good wages, but thou art an idle knave who would 
rather live by begging, and knowest nothing about 
work.’ 

4 Thou art mistaken, Eurymachus,’ answered 
Ulysses. 4 Formerly I could have laboured from early 
dawn till dark, at cutting grass or ploughing with 
strong oxen, and would not have feared to pit myself 
against thee ; then wouldst thou have seen whether 
I knew how to work. Or if w^ar broke out, and I was 
furnished with armour and weapons, thou wouldst have 
found me ever in the foremost rank. Thou thinkest 
thyself a great hero because thou livest here among 
a few men, and they not over mighty. But if Ulysses 
were to come again, these doors, wide as they are, 
would be too narrow for thee to escape into the street.’ 

Eurymachus was beside himself with anger at the 
daring speech of the beggar, and taking up his stool, 
he threw it at him with all his might. Ulysses had 
just time to crouch behind the knees of Amphinomus, 


EVENING IN THE PALACE. 


181 


and the stool hit a poor cup-bearer who was coming in 
at that moment with a goblet full of wine. It struck 
him on the right hand and he dropped the goblet with 
a cry of pain, and fell backwards to the ground. 

Then a great tumult arose, and one of the suitors 
said, 6 Would that the stranger had broken his neck 
before he came here. Now there is continual strife 
and anger, and how can we have any enjoyment of the 
feast ? * Amphinomus advised them to pour out the 
last draught of wine and then go home, and to this 
they agreed. Soon the hall was deserted by the suitors, 
and Ulysses and Telemachus were left alone. 

As soon as the suitors were gone, Ulysses said to 
his son that they must at once take the opportunity of 
removing from the hall the helmets, shields, and coats 
of mail that had hung there for many long years. He 
told him to put them in a chamber in the upper storey, 
so that on the next day, when the fight with the suitors 
should take place, they might not find arms standing 
ready for their use, and thus gain an undue advantage. 

He considered however that the absence of the 
arms might excite the suspicions of the suitors, and he 
instructed Telemachus what to do in case they should 
notice that they were gone. 4 Thou must deceive them,’ 
he told him, 4 and say, 64 Out of the smoke have I 
removed them, because they are becoming black from 
the smoke of the hearth ; and moreover, I fear lest, 
should there at any time arise strife among you, ye 
might do one another an injury, for steel ever attracts 
men to its use.” ’ 

In order that none of the unfaithful maid-servants 
might see where the arms were being hidden, and tell 


182 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


the suitors, Telemachus called in the aged Eurycleia, 
and bade her fasten the doors that shut off the inner 
part of the house. Then the father and son loaded 
themselves with as many arms as they could carry, and 
passed into a dark passage which led from the hall to 
the upper storey. 

As they went, the whole place became suddenly 
bright, and Telemachus cried out in astonishment, 
6 What a wonder is this ! I can see the walls, the 
pillars and the beams quite clearly, as if a flame were 
burning to give us light, iTiis must be the work of 
some god.’ 

Ulysses answered, 4 Hold thy peace, my son, and 
question nothing. In ways like this do the gods bring 
help to men.’ 

When all the arms had been carried away, Tele- 
machus went to his sleeping-chamber; but Ulysses 
waited in the hall to see the queen, who wished to hear 
what he had to tell concerning her husband. 


CHAPTER XL. 


PENELOPE CONVERSES WITH THE STRANGER. 

Ulysses had not to wait long, for almost immediately 
Penelope came into the hall and seated herself on a 
chair near the fire ; a stool was placed also for the 
stranger beside the hearth, and when he had taken his 
seat, she asked him who he was and whence he had 
come. 

Ulysses replied, 4 1 am the brother of Idomeneus 
the king of Crete. Idomeneus went to Troy to join in 
the war, but I remained at home, and thus it happened 
that I had once the honour of entertaining thy husband 
in my house. As he was on his way to Troy, his ships 
were driven on to our coast, and he came into the city 
and was my guest for twelve days, while the storm 
continued to rage. When he departed, I gave him food 
and wine to take with him in the ships,’ 

The tears of Penelope fell fast at the remembrance 
of the time when her husband had left her to go to the 
war, and Ulysses longed to comfort her, but he re- 
strained his emotion, and his eyes remained as hard 
and unmoved as though they were made of horn or 
iron. When the queen had recovered herself, she said,- 
4 If thou didst in truth entertain my husband in thy 


184 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


house, tell me of what sort were the clothes he wore, 
and who he had with him for companions.’ 

4 It is hard to remember after so long a time,’ 
answered Ulysses, 4 but 1 will tell thee as far as I can. 
Ulysses wore a purple mantle, fastened with a golden 
clasp which was fashioned in the form of a dog holding 
in his fore-paws a hunted fawn ; and so marvellously 
was it wrought that they seemed both to be alive, — 
the hound seizing the fawn with firm grip, and the 
fawn writhing and struggling to get free. Beneath the 
mantle, Ulysses wore a doublet so fine and smooth that 
it glistened like the sun. He had with him a herald of 
whom he was especially fond, an old man with a fresh 
colour and abundance of hair, — his name was Eurybates.’ 

As Penelope recognised the tokens one by one, she 
bowed her head in assent, and when he had ended, she 
said, 4 Even before I had heard these things I was 
moved with compassion for thee, stranger, but now will 
I have thee cared for in my house as an honoured guest, 
so far as it lies in my power to do so. The clothes 
that I gave to Ulysses before his departure were the 
very same that thou hast described, and the clasp I 
myself fastened to his cloak. Woe is me, that I shall 
never again see him ! ’ 

Ulysses answered, ‘Let not hope depart from 
thy breast, 0 queen ! I tell thee truly that he will 
shortly be here, — in the land of the Threspotians I 
heard it. His ships indeed he has lost, his companions 
have perished, and he himself has escaped only by 
swimming through the stormy sea to the land of the 
Pheacians, but there he was kindly received and loaded 
with rich presents, and the king of the Threspotians 


PENELOPE CONVERSES WITH THE STRANGER. 185 

swore to me that the ship was already put out to sea in 
which he was to return home. He had but gone to 
Dodona to listen to the rustling of the sacred oak, and 
take counsel of the gods as to whether he should return 
openly or in secret. Fear not to believe my words— by 
the time this month is at an end and the next begins, 
he will be here.’ 

Penelope now ordered her maidens to prepare a 
warm bath in which to wash the feet of the stranger. 
Ulysses, however, said that he would not be waited on 
by the young maidens, but that if there were some 
aged woman, who like himself had lived through a long 
and toilsome lifetime, he would gladly accept this 
service of her. 

To which Penelope made answer, ‘ If thou wilt, the 
aged Eurycleia shall wash thy feet, who bore my hus- 
band in her arms when he was a child. Make ready 
the bath for him, Eurycleia. Ulysses too may have 
grown grey before his time, through adversity, even as 
this stranger ! ’ 

All the time that Ulysses was speaking with her 
mistress, Eurycleia had listened with tears in her eyes, 
and as she looked at the stranger, it seemed to her that 
he bore a surprising resemblance to her beloved master. 
She w r as therefore rejoiced to wash his feet, and 
hastened to fetch the bath and the water. But while 
she was gone, Ulysses remembered that in bathing him 
she might recognise the scar of a wound which he had 
received when he was a boy, and thus discover who he 
was, and he pushed back his stool further into the 
darkness. 


186 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 




CHAPTER XLI. 

THE BOAR HUNT ON MOUNT PARNASSUS. 

Long years before this time, when Ulysses was but a 
new-born infant, it happened that his grandfather 
Autolycus came on a visit to Ithaca, and Eurycleia, the 
nurse, laid the child on his lap and begged him to give 
it a name. After a little consideration, Autolycus 
said to the parents, 4 Name the boy Ulysses, and when 
he is grown up, send him to me, and I will give him a 
goodly present.’ 

Accordingly when Ulysses was grown up, his parents 
sent him on a visit to his kinsfolk, who lived far away 
from Ithaca. He was very kindly received by his 
grandparents and their sons, and they all tried to give 
him as much pleasure as they could during his stay 
with them. 

The young Ulysses delighted in hunting, and his 
uncles took him with them to the forests of Mount 
Parnassus, which formed part of the domain of his 
grandfather. They took also sporting-dogs which were 
trained to run down the game, and soon they heard 
them barking violently from the midst of a densely 
thick cover. Then the hunters knew that the dogs 
must have tracked some wild beast to his lair, and 
placed themselves with their spears presented towards 


THE BOAR HUNT ON MOUNT PARNASSUS. 187 


the cover, in readiness to receive him when he should 
rush forward towards them. 

For a few moments they waited with beating 
hearts, and then a mighty boar dashed out from the 
thicket, with eyes like burning coals, and bristles 
standing erect. Ulysses was no coward, and springing 
forward, he aimed at the furious animal with his 
spear, but the boar was quicker than he, and in a 
moment he had torn open his leg, inflicting a deep 
wound just above the knee. Ulysses would not how- 
ever give in, and he hurled his spear at his enemy with 
such force that the point went in at the side and passed 
right through his body. Immediately the great beast 
fell to the ground with a groan, smitten to death. 

The companions of Ulysses examined his wound, 
and found that only the flesh was torn away, — the bone 
was uninjured. They staunched the blood and laid 
cooling herbs upon the place, and then carried the 
boy back to his grandfather on a bier made of willow- 
twigs hastily woven together. 

Ulysses remained with his grandparents until his 
w'ound was quite healed, and then returned home with 
the goodly present that had been promised him. But 
never, to the end of his life, did he lose the scar of the 
wound that he had received. 

9 


188 • THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

ULYSSES IS RECOGNISED BY EURYCLEIA. 

The aged Eurycleia brought in the bath, and began 
to wash the feet and legs of the stranger, but when 
she touched the scar, she remained for a moment 
motionless and* mute with astonishment, and then cried 
out, in an ecstasy of joy , 6 Thou art Ulysses ! By the 
scar I know thee ! 5 

She would have imparted the joyful news to the 
queen, but Ulysses instantly covered her lips with his 
hand and said, 4 Mother, thou didst carry me in thine 
arms when I was a child, be not now the means of my 
undoing. Be silent, and let no one know that I am in 
the house/ 

4 Thou mayest trust me,’ replied Eurycleia below 
her breath. 4 1 will be as dumb as a stone, or a piece 
of iron/ 

Penelope might easily have heard the first delighted 
exclamation of the old nurse, but Athene had distracted 
her mind, so that she perceived nothing. In her surprise 
at discovering Ulysses, Eurycleia had dropped the foot 
which she was holding, and this hit the side of the bath 
and overturned it, spilling the water all over the ground. 
She now fetched some more water, to finish her work ; and 
Ulysses could feel her hands trembling for joy as she 
rubbed his limbs. 


ULYSSES IS RECOGNISED BY EURYCLEIA. 189 


As soon as she had finished, Ulysses turned back 
towards the hearth, and Penelope, rousing herself from 
her musings over the past, thus addressed him : 
4 Stranger,’ she said, 4 1 will relate to thee a dream that 
came to me last night, and thou shalt tell me the 
interpretation of it. There are twenty geese in my 
house, and I take pleasure in watching them as they 
eat their food from the trough. Now I dreamt that 
there came from the mountains a great eagle, who 
broke all their necks one after the other, and laid them 
dead upon the ground, after which he soared up into 
the air again. And while I lay and wept over my loss, 
the eagle came back and sat on the roof, and said to me, 
44 Mourn not, for this is no mere dream, but the truth, 
as thou wilt quickly know. The geese are the suitors, 
and I am thy husband who comes to destroy them, one 
and all.” Thus spoke the eagle, and I awoke and looked 
for the geese:— there they stood at their trough as 
usual, not one was missing.’ 

With a smile Ulysses replied, 4 Why dost thou seek 
for any further interpretation ? Ulysses has himself 
explained thy dream to thee. He will in truth appear 
and destroy the suitors, giving them over to death. 
Not one of them will be left to disturb thy peace.’ 

But Penelope shook her head, and said, 4 All dreams 
are not alike fulfilled, for there are two gates out of 
which they proceed, the one of horn and the other of 
ivory. Those that come through the gate of ivory do 
but mock men ; but the others that proceed from the 
gate of horn, to them should mortals give heed. My 
dream, I know, alas ! is of those that will never be 
fulfilled, and therefore will I no longer suffer the 


190 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


suitors to consume the goods of my son. I have re- 
solved what to do, and to-morrow shall be the ill- 
fated day on which I will separate myself from the 
house of Ulysses. I will challenge the suitors to make 
trial of a feat of strength of which my husband was 
master. In the chamber above is his bow ; no one 
could stretch the string over it so easily as he, and 
when he had placed twelve iron axes in a row, he could 
shoot an arrow straight through the handles of all 
without missing one. To whomsoever then of the 
suitors can with the greatest ease string the bow and 
shoot through the axe-handles, will I give my hand and 
let him lead me to his house as a bride. But of the 
house of Ulysses will I nevertheless still think con- 
tinually, yea, even in my dreams.’ 

‘ Do even as thou hast said, 0 queen ! ’ replied the 
stranger, ‘and delay not, for before the suitors can 
string the bow and perform the feat of skill, Ulysses 
himself will have returned to his home.’ 

They had talked until it was now quite late, and 
Penelope rose from her seat to go to her sleeping- 
chamber. She would have had a soft bed prepared for 
the stranger, as for an honoured guest, but Ulysses 
declined, saying, ‘ Since I left Crete and have been 
the butt of misfortune, I have not cared to sleep in 
any comfortable bed ; I will make for myself a couch 
upon the ground.’ 

He went out into the corridor, and spread upon 
the ground some fleeces with an ox-skin over them ; 
upon these he laid himself down, and the house dame 
came and threw over him a warm covering. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


THE HERDSMAN PHILOETIUS. 

But Ulysses could not sleep, for his mind was filled with 
agitating thoughts. Fierce anger took possession of 
his breast as he dwelt upon the outrages of the suitors 
and the sufferings of his wife ; and again he was filled 
with anxiety as he considered the danger of the coming 
conflict and its possible consequences. 

He was tossing restlessly from side to side, when 
suddenly the goddess Athene stood before him, and 
said, 4 Why art thou thus wakeful, Ulysses, filled with 
unquiet thoughts? Is not this thy house for which 
thou hast so long yearned ? and here is thy wife, and 
a son such as any father might wish for.’ 

‘ Truly hast thou spoken,’ replied Ulysses, 4 but 
how shall I get the better of this host of suitors ? and 
even should I succeed in this, how can I hope to escape 
the vengeance of their kinsmen ? ’ 

4 Many a one in his time of need can look for help 
only to a mortal like himself,’ was the answer of Athene, 

4 but thou hast a goddess for thy protector. If thou 
wert surrounded by fifty hosts, yet couldst thou with 
my assistance get the better of them all.’ With these 
words she disappeared, leaving Ulysses inspired with 
fresh courage, and he soon became calm and fell asleep. 


192 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


Early in the morning, however, he was awakened 
by the loud weeping of Penelope ; he could hear it so 
distinctly, that for a moment, before he was well awake, 
he thought she was beside his bed. He sprang up and 
raised his hands to Zeus, praying thus : 4 Father Zeus, 
if ye gods are indeed purposed to put an end to these 
my sufferings, send me here in the house some word of 
good omen, and let a sign appear from heaven.’ 

Scarcely had Ulysses ended his prayer when there 
came a sound of rolling thunder. This was the sign 
for which he had prayed, and he rejoiced to know that 
he had been heard. Neither was there Wanting a word 
of encouragement from human lips. In the adjoining 
room, the hand-mill had been at work all night, grind- 
ing flour for the feast of the suitors on the following 
day. Twelve women had to perform this labour, and 
all but one had now finished their work.. The weakest 
of them, however, still remained ; she bad not as yet 
been able to get through the task assigned to her. 

When she heard the thunder, she paused frpm her 
work for a moment, and said, 4 0 Father Zeus, thy 
thunder peals, though there is no cloud to be seen in 
the sky ; this must surely be for a sign to some mortal, 
who has prayed to thee in his distress. Oh, grant to 
me also the fulfilment of my prayer, and may this 
be the last meal which the suitors shall eat in this 
house, that I may no longer have to toil on their 
behalf ! ’ Ulysses heard what she said, and rejoiced 
the more, knowing that the gods were minded to help 
him. 

On this day, the citizens were to celebrate a feast 
in honour of Apollo, and the greater number of them 


THE HERDSMAN PH1L0ETIUS. 193 

went out to a sacred grove beyond the city, to sacrifice 
to the god. The suitors preferred however to feast as 
usual in the house of Ulysses, and all the morning the 
serving-maids and serving-men were busy preparing for 
their reception. The maidens swept the floor of the 
hall, placed white coverings upon the seats, wiped the 
tables with damp sponges, cleansed the cups and mixing- 
bowls, and as many as twenty of them were sent to the 
spring to fetch the water that would be needed for the 
day. Then the men-servants of the suitors made their 
appearance, and employed themselves in splitting great 
quantities of wood ; for the fire at which the meat was 
to be roasted for so many guests would need to be kept 
well supplied. 

Ulysses went out unto the court-yard, and saw the 
herdsmen bringing in the animals which they had to 
provide every day for the feast of the suitors. The 
first to arrive was Eumaeus, who greeted him heartily, 
well pleased to see him again. Then the spiteful goat- 
herd Melanthius appeared, and again gave vent to his 
dislike of the stranger, saying angrily, 4 Art thou still 
about here, burdening the house with thine unwished- 
for presence ? We two will not take leave one of the 
other without coming to blows, for thou bearest thyself 
as if there w'ere no other banquet to which thou 
mightest betake thyself in order to beg.’ But Ulysses 
turned away from him, and made no reply. 

A third to arrive was Philcetius, a herdsman from 
the mainland, who had come across the sea, bringing 
some of his cattle and goats to be slaughtered. The 
stranger whom he saw standing by Eumaeus, aroused 
his interest, and he asked the swineherd, ‘ Who is this 


194 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


unhappy man? Verily he has the appearance of a 
king. Ye gods ! men have indeed enough of sorrow 
when even kings can be reduced to such misery ! ’ 

He stretched out his hand kindly to Ulysses, and 
said, 4 May fortune again smile upon thee, notwith- 
standing that thou art now in evil case ! As I look on 
thee, I cannot but think of Ulysses, and my eyes are 
filled with tears, for I fear lest he too may now be 
wandering in the garb of a beggar, even if he is not 
altogether cut off from the light of the sun. If indeed 
he has already reached the Land of the Dead, then it 
is so much the worse for me. 

‘I was still young when he placed me in charge 
of his flocks upon the mainland, and now they are so 
prosperous that there is nothing more to desire. Yet I 
can take no pleasure in them, for they profit none but 
the suitors, who, living in the palace and gorging them- 
selves with food and wine, dishonour the son of my 
master, heedless of the wrath of the god-s. Often 
have I turned it over in my mind whether I would not 
rather leave the country and go to some other king, for 
life here is no longer to be endured, — but then I hope 
again that my beloved master may yet come back, and 
requite the evil deeds of the suitors.’ 

Ulysses rejoiced with all his heart at the fidelity of 
Pbiloetius, and said, 4 Do not abandon hope. Ulysses 
will yet return and punish the suitors. Yea, before 
thou hast left the palace, will he be here.’ 

4 Should that be the case, 0 friend,’ returned the 
other with gleaming eyes, 4 thou shalt see whether there 
yet remains any strength in my arms ! ’ Then, raising his 
hands, he prayed aloud to the gods to hasten the coming 
of his master, and cause him to return with all speed. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


THE WARNING OF THE SOOTHSAYER. 

Before coming to the feast, the suitors assembled 
in a lonely place to enquire of the gods whether they 
would succeed in their design against the life of Tele- 
machus. The omen was unfavourable. An eagle flew 
by above their heads, not from the right side, but from 
the left, and this was a sign of coming evil. Then 
said Amphinomus, 4 Ye see that the gods are opposed 
to the undertaking ; we must give it up.’ The rest 
agreed ; and presently they returned to the palace, and 
seated themselves at the banquet. 

When the feast began, Telemachus told the servants 
to place a stool for the stranger upon the threshold, 
and said aloud, so that the suitors might hear, 4 Sit thou 
there, and eat and drink, even as we do. Be not afraid 
of any insult or ill-treatment, for I will protect thee. 
This is no house that is common alike to all ; it is the 
property of Ulysses and of myself. Restrain yourselves, 
ye suitors, from unseemly conduct, and avoid all strife.’ 

The suitors bit their lips in silence ; gladly would 
they have punished Telemachus for speaking so 
courageously, but they were afraid, remembering the 
unfavourable omen. 

9 * 


196 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


When the meat was served round, Ulysses received 
his share like the rest, and eat it, sitting quietly in his 
place. But the meal was not to pass without further 
insult. One of the suitors, a man named CtesippUs, 
was annoyed that the beggar should be served just like 
himself, and he thought it well to make an offensive 
joke. 6 My friends,’ he said, ‘ it is quite right that the 
guests of Telemachus should take Their share of all 
that we have. I will also give something to the 
stranger, and perhaps he may find among the menials 
someone lower than himself on whom he can in turn 
bestow it as a stranger’s present.’ 

He had just then stripped the meat from an ox’s 
foot and placed the bone in a basket which stood on 
the table for this purpose ; and he now took the bone 
and flung it at Ulysses. It did not hit him however, 
for Ulysses turned aside his head, and the bone went 
past him and struck the wall. 

Telemachus felt his blood boil, and he said, 4 Truly 
it is well for thee, Ctesippus, that thou didst not hit 
the stranger, otherwise would my spear have gone 
through thy body, and instead of a wedding-feast, thy 
father would have had to prepare for thee a funeral 
banquet. Bather would I be smitten to death by you 
suitors, than endure any longer to see my guests ill- 
treated, and allow you to go to any lengths to which 
your insolence may prompt you.’ 

At the same moment Athene wrought a sign, fore- 
shadowing the approaching destruction of the suitors. 
Against their will, their faces were all distorted with 
immoderate laughter, and the meat which they were 
about to raise to their mouths looked as if it had been 


THE WARNING OF THE SOOTHSAYER. 197 

dipped in blood, — but they themselves knew nothing 
of this, only the others saw it. 

Now there was a stranger in the hall who belonged 
to a family of soothsayers ; he had come to Telemachus 
to beg for his protection, for he had been driven from 
his home. To his senses, which were keener than those 
of ordinary men, other signs of horror soon became 
apparent, and he cried aloud, 4 Ye unhappy men, what 
is this that I see hanging over you ? Your heads and 
limbs are wrapped in darkness ; I hear you lamenting ; 
the tears stream down your cheeks ; all the walls are 
dripping with blood. The door and the court-yard are 
crowded with shadows hurrying to the Lower World ; 
the sun has disappeared from the heavens ; darkness is 
spread all around.’ 

The suitors had no foreboding that death and 
destruction were awaiting them, and at these words 
they only laughed. 4 The stranger has lost his senses,’ 
cried Eurymachus. 4 Up, one of you, and help him 
to the door ; lead him moreover carefully to the 
market-place, for here he can see nothing but 
darkness.’ 

But the seer answered, 4 1 need no one to lead me. 
I have sound eyes and ears and feet, and my thoughts 
are as clear as ever they were. But, unaccompanied, 
will I get me away, for I see evil approaching which 
none of you shall escape.’ With these words he left 
the hall and the house. 

When he was gone, the suitors began to tease 
Telemachus, and one of them said, 4 Thou art out of 
luck with thy guests, Telemachus ; one of them is an 


198 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


idle beggar, a sluggard who cares for nothing but eat- 
ing and drinking ; and the other is pleased to amuse 
himself with playing the seer. Thou wouldst do better 
to ship them both off and sell them as slaves, then 
mightest thou at least gain something by them.’ 


CHAPTER XLV. 


ULYSSES MAKES HIMSELF KNOWN TO EUMAEUS AND 
PHILOETIUS. 

While this was going on, Ulysses saw Eumaeus and 
Philoetius leave the hall. He followed them into the 
court-yard and said to them, 4 If perchance some god 
were suddenly to bring Ulysses to his home, what 
course would ye take ? Would ye side with your 
master, or with the suitors ? 5 

With beaming faces they replied that they would 
stand by their master with all their heart and with all 
their strength. Then said Ulysses, 4 Look at me, for 
I am he, your master. I am Ulysses, who in the 
twentieth year have come again to my home. I have 
proved you to be faithful servants who have looked 
and longed for my return, and ye shall not fail of your 
reward ; if with the help of the gods I overcome the 
suitors, ye shall both be as dear to me as if ye were the 
brothers of Telemachus. And that there may be no 
doubt that I am indeed Ulysses, see here the scar of 
the wound which the boar once dealt me when I was 
visiting my grandfather.’ 

The two herdsmen were deeply moved, and threw 
themselves upon their master, embracing his face and 


200 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

hands with tumultuous joy. Ulysses also gave ex- 
pression to the wafm affection he felt for them, but 
there was no time to spare for indulging in prolonged 
emotion. 

He desired them not to appear to know anything, 
lest they should rouse the suspicion of some one who 
might warn the suitors. He also assigned a task to 
each of them. To Eumaeus he said, 4 Bring me the 
bow when I demand it, and then go and tell the women 
to fasten the doors that shut off their apartments from 
the hall, and to remain quietly at their work, even 
though they hear sounds of tumult and groaning.’ 
Then turning to Philoetius, 4 At the same moment,’ he 
added, 4 must thou go out into the court-yard, and bar 
the door, that no one may be able to force an entrance 
from the street.’ 

After this, they returned separately to the hall, 
first Ulysses, and then the two herdsmen, one by one. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


THE BOW OF ULYSSES. 

While the suitors were feasting in the hall, Penelope 
had gone with two of her maidens to the upper cham- 
ber, where all the most valued possessions of the house 
of Ulysses were stored. Here were chests full of beau- 
tiful garments, and precious vessels in abundance, of 
gold and bronze, which had been received as presents 
from strangers, and were put by, ready to be given 
again in like manner. Here too was the great bow of 
Ulysses. _ 

It had been given to him by a famous archer who 
himself inherited it from great men long since dead, 
and Ulysses had set great store by it, and never took it 
with him when he went away to war, but only used it 
at home for performing feats of strength and skill in 
archery. It was kept in the upper chamber, in a 
wooden case, which hung from a nail in the wall. 

Penelope took down the case, and, seating herself, 
she opened it, and her tears fell as she looked at the 
bow, which reminded her of the happy time long ago 
when her husband was by her side. Presently however 
she checked herself, and went down to the hall, carrying 
the bow and the quiver full of arrows, whilst her maidens 
followed with the twelve axes that belonged to it. 


202 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


The suitors were astonished when they saw the 
queen standing in the doorway wdth the bow in her 
hand, and all were silent. She said to them, 4 Ye sue 
for me, and will that I should choose one of you for my 
husband. Very well then, prove to me which is the 
best man among you. Whichever of you can the most 
easily stretch the string over this bow which Ulysses 
loved to use, and shoot his arrow without fail through 
the handles of the twelve axes, him will I accept as my 
husband, and will accompany to his house.’ 

She gave the bow and arrows, as she spoke, to 
Eumaeus, and told him to take them to the suitors. 
At the sight of the favourite bow of their master, both 
he and Philoetius were constrained to weep, but 
Antinous spoke roughly to them, saying, 4 Why do ye 
thus weep, making the heart of the queen heavier than 
it is already ? Either cease to behave like women, or 
else leave the hall.’ Then turning to the suitors he 
added, 4 We will all make trial of the bow, but it will 
be no easy matter to stretch the string across it. Not 
every man can do as Ulysses did.’ But in his heart he 
hoped that he himself would succeed. 

Which was the harder, to stretch the string over the 
bow, or to shoot straight through all the twelve axe- 
handles, it is difficult to say ; both alike w r ere feats only 
to be accomplished by a master hand. In those days it 
was customary, if a bow were not going to be used for 
some time, to unfasten one end of the string in order 
to save the strain upon it, and when the bow was 
again needed, it was necessary to bend it down, and at 
the same time stretch the string, until the loop at the 
end had caught the hook at the extremity of the bow. 


THE BOW OF ULYSSES. 


203 


The stronger the bow, the harder it was to bend, and 
the bow of Ulysses was of quite exceptional strength. 

While the suitors were looking at the bow, Tele- 
machus said, 4 1 am astonished at myself. My dear 
mother proposes to leave the house, and yet this causes 
me no pain. But let me first myself make trial of the 
bow. If I am able to shoot even as my father, then 
can I also protect his house, and there is no occasion 
for my mother to leave it.’ 

As he spoke, he laid aside his sword and mantle, 
and began to prepare the hall for the contest. In order 
that the axes might be placed correctly, he first drew a 
narrow straight line from the door to the opposite wall, 
and along this line dug a trench in which to set them. 
The floor of the hall was not of wood, but was simply 
made of earth well flattened down. 

Telemachus placed the axes in the trench at equal 
distances, and stamped down the earth round them, 
that they might stand securely. When he had finished, 
he took the bow and tried to string it. Three times he 
put forth his utmost strength, and each time he came 
a little nearer to success. The fourth time he might 
have done it, but his father beckoned to him to try no 
more, and Telemachus put down the bow, saying to the 
suitors that he was too weak to bend it. He asked if 
either of them would undertake to do better, and An- 
tinoiis said that they should all try their luck, one by 
one, in the order in which the wine was passed round. 

The first of the suitors who made the attempt, 
quickly perceived that he would never be able to string 
the bow, and said despondingly, 4 There is not one of 
us but will have to go elsewhere in search of a wife/ 


204 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


But Antinoiis upbraided him, and replied that 
though he might be too weak, there were better men 
than he among the suitors, who would not fail to accom- 
plish the task. He thought it well, nevertheless, to bid 
Melanthius kindle a fire and fetch a ball of lard, with 
which to grease the bow and make it more pliable. 
After this, one suitor after another made trial of the 
bow, putting forth his utmost strength, but all in vain. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 


ULYSSES MAKES TRIAL OF THE BOW. 

By this time the bow had almost gone the whole 
round of the suitors ; all but Eurymachus and An- 
tinoiis had tried in vain to string it. It was now the 
turn of Eurymachus, who greased it carefully, turning 
it round and round before the fire, and then with a 
mighty effort tried his utmost to bend it ; but he soon 
perceived that the bride was not for him. In deep 
mortification he cried aloud , 6 It is not the loss of the 
marriage that I chiefly mourn, for there are many other 
women in the cities of Greece, but because the people 
will say that the suitors are far from being able to ac- 
complish that which Ulysses did — this it is that vexes 
me the most.’ 

Antinoiis had also begun to lose confidence, and he 
said, 6 This is not a good day for the trial. To-day the 
citizens are making a feast to Apollo, and who could 
expect to have success with the bow on the day sacred 
to the archer-god ? To-morrow let us offer sacrifices to 
him, and then renew the contest. Now is the time for 
eating and drinking.’ To this all the suitors agreed, 
and they sat down again to the tables, the servants 
bringing them food and wine. 


206 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


Then Ulyssas rose, and said, 4 With your leave, ye 
suitors, as ye have for this day given over the contest, 
I will venture to make trial of the bow. I would fain 
see how much there yet remains to me of my former 
strength.’ 

At this Antinoiis was much annoyed, and he said, 
4 Thou shameless man, is it not enough honour for thee 
to sit among us as a guest and be permitted to listen 
to our talk, — a privilege granted to no other — and now 
wilt thou make trial of the bow ? Thy words proceed 
from fulness of wine. If thou shouldst succeed in 
bending the bow, we would send thee, I swear, to the 
cruel king Echetus, who would maim and torture thee. 
Eemain thou quiet, eat and drink, and think not to 
measure thyself against younger men.’ 

But Penelope, who was already interested in the 
stranger, interposed and said, 4 Dost thou think, Anti- 
nous, that if the stranger were to succeed with the bow, 
I should take him as my husband ? ’ 

4 That is not what we fear, 0 queen,’ returned 
Eurymachus, 4 but it would be an eternal disgrace to us 
if it were to be said among the people that a stray 
beggar had accomplished that which the suitors were 
unable to perform.’ 

But the queen replied, 4 Your reputation is not 
such that ye need be so much concerned to preserve it 
unblemished. The stranger is now indeed in pitiful 
case, but he has the air of belonging to a noble family. 
Pass over to him the bow. If he is able to string 
it, I will give him a mantle and doublet, and also a 
sword and spear, and will send him away in a ship, 
whithersoever he will.’ 


ULYSSES MAKES TRIAL OF THE BOW. 207 

Then said Telemachus, ‘With regard to the bow, 
I alone shall decide, and if I choose to give it to the 
stranger, there is no one here who has a right to hinder 
me. But thou, dear mother, go away to thy distaff, and 
keep thy maidens employed at their work. I will 
settle what is to be done about the bow.’ Penelope was 
filled with astonishment at the resolute speech of her 
son, and she did as he desired. 

Eumaeus took up the bow, and was about to carry 
it past the suitors to give it to the beggar, but they 
called out to him, 4 If thou doest that, we will kill thee, 
and throw thee to thine own dogs to devour.’ Eumaeus 
became alarmed and put down the bow again ; but on 
the other hand, Telemachus cried out, 4 If thou doest it 
not, I will hunt thee out of the house.’ 

Thus threatened on both sides, Eumaeus remem- 
bered his duty, and gave the bow and quiver to Ulysses. 
Then he went to Eurycleia, and told her that Tele- 
machus desired that the doors leading from the hall to 
the women’s chambers should be shut. At the same 
time Philoetius went out into the court-yard and barred 
the gate ; and then they both returned to the hall. 

Ulysses, meanwhile, was turning the bow from side 
to side and examining it carefully, to see if any worms 
had found their way into the horn of which it was 
made. One of the suitors remarked that he must 
surely be well accustomed to handle a bow. ‘Perhaps,’ 
he said, 4 he has a similar one of his own at home, 
or maybe he is set on making one like it.’ Another 
said to his neighbour, 4 He will never be able to string 
it, but will only make himself a laughing-stock.’ 

They had but little time however for gibing, for 


208 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


in a very few moments they perceived to their dismay 
that Ulysses had already bent the bow and strung it, 
just as lightly as a musician draws a string over his 
lyre and winds it up to the right pitch. Then, in order 
to try whether it was fastened tightly enough, he held 
the bow in one hand, and with two fingers of the other 
he played upon the string, which gave out a sweet sound 
like the voice of a swallow. 

The suitors were pale with fear, but Ulysses was 
full of joy at finding that the bow and the string were 
alike in good condition. At this moment a peal of 
thunder sounded through the hall, a token sent by 
Zeus for the encouragement of Ulysses, and he rejoiced 
the more. He took an arrow and laid it upon the bow- 
string; then aiming through the centre of the first 
axe-handle, he pulied the string, and the arrow flew 
straight through all the twelve handles and lodged in 
the wall beyond. 

Then he turned to Telemachus, and said, 6 Thy poor 
guest has not disgraced thee, Telemachus. No great 
effort did it cost me to string the bow, neither have I 
failed to hit my mark. My strength is even as it was 
of old. But now, while it is still light, it is time to 
prepare the supper for the suitors.’ As he spoke, he 
made a sign with his eyes, and Telemachus, who under- 
stood him, seized his sword and spear, and hastened to 
place himself by the side of his father that the struggle 
might now begin. 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 


THE SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS BEGINS. 

Then Ulysses threw off his mantle and leaped up on 
to the threshold. The bow and quiver were still in his 
hands, and the arrows he poured out at his feet, — all but 
one, which he laid upon the bow-string. ‘ Ye suitors,’ 
he cried, with flashing eyes, 4 the trial of the bow has 
proved that I am no novice, and now will I see whether 
Apollo will enable me to hit a mark at which no one 
has aimed as yet.’ 

As he spoke, he let fly the arrow at Antinoxis, who 
was in the act of raising with both hands a double- 
eared cup to his lips, and thinking of nothing so little 
as of death. How should he conceive that one solitary 
stranger would venture to attack him, surrounded as 
he was with a host of friends ? He fell back, dropping 
the cup, and overturning the table in front of him with 
his foot, as he sank lifeless to the ground. 

The blood streamed forth, defiling the bread and 
roasted flesh, and the suitors rose tumultuously from 
their seats, crying out with one voice to Ulysses, 6 This 
shall be thy last shot, for he whom thou hast slain was 
the most excellent man in all Ithaca, and now shaltthou 
be food for the vultures.’ They looked round for the 
arms that had formerly hung in the hall, that they might 


210 


THE WANDEBINGS OF ULYSSES. 


send a spear through the beggar’s body, — but the walls 
were bare. 

The suitors had no suspicion that Ulysses had killed 
Antinous otherwise than by accident, but he quickly 
undeceived them. With eyes like flame, and in a 
voice of thunder, he cried, 6 Ye dogs! who thought 
that T would never come back from Troy, and wasted 
my goods, wooing my wife when I w^as yet alive, ye have 
persisted in your iniquities, fearing the punishment 
neither of gods nor men ; but now is death awaiting you 
one and all.’ 

At these words the suitors became paler than before, 
but the cunning Eurymachus quickly recovered him- 
self, and said, 4 If thou art indeed Ulysses who has 
returned, I cannot blame thee for thine anger, for true 
it is that many evil deeds have been done by the 
suitors. But Antinous, he who was in truth to blame for 
them all, lies dead upon the ground before thee. His 
object was less to gain the hand of thy wife than to make 
himself king of Ithaca, for which cause he devised all 
this wickedness, plotting even to kill thy son. Spare 
thou the rest of us, and for all that we have consumed 
of thy goods, we will make thee a full return.’ 

But Ulysses answered, 4 If ye should one and all offer 
me, not only all that ye possess, but all that may ever 
come to you, I would not rest until ye had paid the full 
penalty of all your crimes. This choice alone remains 
to you, — whether ye will defend yourselves, or meet 
death without resistance.’ 

Then Eurymachus cried out to the rest, 4 Ye hear 
what he says — he will shoot us with his arrows until 
he has killed us all. Defend yourselves therefore ; draw 


THE SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS BEGINS. 211 

your swords, and hold up the tables in front of you as 
shields ; so let us all set upon him at once, and perhaps 
we may be able to drive him from off the threshold, and 
call to our friends in the city to come and help us. 
Then there will soon be an end of his shooting/ 

He drew his sword, and snatching up the nearest 
table, he sprang towards Ulysses with a cry ; but at the 
same moment he received an arrow in the breast, and 
fell to the ground, dragging down upon him other 
tables covered with food and wine. 

After him Amphinomus tried to overpower Ulysses, 
but Telemachus, who was behind him, hit him in the 
back with his spear, and he fell down dead also. Thus 
he met his doom, because he had neglected to attend to 
the warniug of Ulysses on the previous day. 1 

1 See p. 178. 

10 


212 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

THE PUNISHMENT OF MELANTHIUS. 

Telemachus now went up to his father and said, ‘ I will 
go to the upper chamber where we put by the arms, 
and fetch down what we need;’ and Ulysses replied, 
‘ Fetch them quickly, my son, before I have exhausted 
my arrows.’ Telemachus immediately armed himself 
and the two herdsmen, and brought down also weapons 
for his father, with which Ulysses equipped himself 
when he had shot all his arrows. 

A very large number of the suitors were still alive, 
but they were at a disadvantage, for while Ulysses, 
Telemachus, and the two herdsmen were completely 
armed, they had neither helmets, swords nor spears. 
Melanthius perceived this, and said to them, 6 1 will 
bring you weapons, as many as you need.’ Through a 
narrow door between two of the pillars, there was a way 
up to the chamber in the upper storey where the arms 
had been stowed away the night before, and Melanthius, 
who had guessed where they were, soon brought dowm 
twelve shields and as many spears and helmets for the 
suitors. 

Ulysses was greatly concerned when he saw the suitors 
arming themselves, and he said to Telemachus, 4 How 


THE PUNISHMENT OF MELANTHIUS. 


213 


have the suitors come by these arms ? Either some 
faithless maid-servant has brought them down from the 
upper chamber, or else it is Melanthius who is helping 
our enemies.’ 

4 0 father ! ’ replied Telemachus, 4 it is my fault, 
for I did but close the door of the chamber, and did not 
lock it. But thou, Eumaeus, watch Melanthius to see 
if he climbs up thither again, for it must certainly be 
he who is helping the suitors.’ 

It was not long before Melanthius again disappeared 
from the hall, and the two herdsmen were sent after 
him. They found him in the chamber, turning over 
the weapons ; he felt sure that his friends would conquer 
if they were properly armed, and was about to hurry 
down again with an old shield and helmet of the time 
of Laertes, when the two herdsmen, who had placed 
themselves unperceived one on each side of the door, 
seized him, as he was about to leave the room, by both 
his arms. 

Thus taken by surprise, Melanthius trembled all 
over with fright and dropped his booty, and the two 
men dragged him back into the chamber. They tied 
his feet and hands behind his back with a tight rope, 
and then strung him up to one of the beams of the 
roof. Eumaeus also mocked him, and said, 4 Thou hast 
a very comfortable bed there, Melanthius, but forget 
not to rise at day-break, to bring the fattest of thy 
goats to thy beloved suitors.’ Then the two herdsmen 
hastened back to the hall, leaving Melanthius hanging 
from the roof in great agony. 


214 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER L. 

THE DESTRUCTION OP’ THE SUITORS. 

Just at this moment, there appeared at the door of the 
hall, Mentor, the former friend of Ulysses, and both 
sides appealed to him to join them. Ulysses was full 
of joy at seeing his friend, and cried out, 4 Help us, 
Mentor, and do not forget that we have been comrades 
from our youth.’ On the other hand the suitors said, 
4 Mentor, if thou allowest thyself to be beguiled by 
Ulysses, we will slay thee also, and divide thy goods 
between us, and we will drive away thy wife, thy sons 
and thy daughters from their home.’ 

But Mentor placed himself by the side of Ulysses, 
and calling to his memory the brave deeds he had 
wrought before Troy, he assured him that he would 
now also triumph over his enemies. Ulysses at once 
divined that it must be his ever-faithful protector, the 
goddess Athene, who had assumed the form of Mentor, 
and he was right. In another moment, Mentor had 
disappeared, and in the form of a swallow, Athene flew 
up to one of the rafters of the roof, from which she 
could watch the struggle. 

The suitors were still hopeful that through their 
great superiority in numbers they would be able to 
get the better of Ulysses. The bravest of those who 


THE DESTRUCTION OF THE SUITORS. 215 

had as yet escaped death was Agelaiis, and he urged 
on his companions to fight valiantly, saying, 4 Soon he 
must give in, Mentor has already withdrawn himself, 
and we have only four enemies to deal with. Hurl now 
your spears, — not all at once, but ye six first who stand 
in front.’ 

They obeyed his directions, but Athene turned 
aside the spears that they should do no injury to 
Ulysses and his friends ; one went through the door, 
another struck against one of the door-posts; — all 
failed to reach their mark. 

Then the other side took aim, and each of their 
spears killed a man. F resh horror fell upon the 
suitors ; but they dragged away the corpses of their 
friends into the background, that they might draw out 
the spears and use them again. Those who had not 
already shot made another effort, and again six spears 
were hurled, but most of them went quite astray, and 
those that hit the enemy did but graze their skin. 

Again it was the turn of Ulysses and his friends, and 
again the number of the slain equalled the number of 
the spears hurled. One of those that fell was Ctesippus, 
who had thrown the ox-foot at Ulysses , 1 and Philoetius, 
by whose spear he had been struck, cried out, 4 Take that 
as a return for thy stranger’s present.’ 

Now Athene, who had stationed herself on one of 
the rafters, had with her the Aegis, that invisible but 
irresistible weapon of the gods, with which they were 
able in a moment to confound their enemies by strik- 
ing terror into their hearts. At this moment she 
raised the Aegis, and the suitors, smitten with despair, 
1 See p. 196. 


216 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


threw down their arms and ran wildly about the hall 
like a herd of cattle maddened by a pursuing gadfly. 
The others had now an easy task, for the suitors made 
no farther attempt at resistance, and they had but to 
slay them one by one. 

The soothsayer of the suitors hoped to save his 
life by piteous entreaties. He clasped the knees of 
Ulysses, and said, 4 1 have never injured thee nor any 
of thy people, and many a time have I implored the 
suitors to cease from their evil ways. I was but the 
soothsayer. Have pity on me, and slay me not with 
the rest ! ’ 

But Ulysses looked darkly at him, as he answered, 
4 Many a time, if thou wast their soothsayer, must thou 
have called upon the gods, with the prayer that they 
would cause me to perish in a far land. Thou art 
worthy of death, even as thy friends.’ And as he 
spoke, he plunged his sword into the throat of the 
miserable man. 

The singer Phemius stood trembling in a corner 
beside his lyre, and now he also came forward and 
threw himself at the feet of Ulysses, saying, 4 Spare 
me, I entreat thee ! for it would but bring evil upon 
thine own head if thou shouldst slay the singer whose 
gift of song comes to him from the gods themselves. 
Not of mine own will did I serve the suitors, but be- 
cause they compelled me, and to this Telemachus can 
testify.’ 

4 It is true,’ replied Telemachus. ‘Kill him not, 
father, for he is guiltless, and so is also the herald 
Medon, who took care of me when I was a child. Spare 


THE DESTRUCTION OF THE SUITORS. 217 

him likewise, if perchance he has not already fallen in 
the struggle.’ 

In his fear, Medon had crept behind a high seat, and 
covered himself with an ox-skin that he might not be 
seen. He now came out, and embracing the knees of 
Telemachus, said in a timid voice, 4 Friend, here I am ; 
speak to thy father that, in his wrath, he slay me not 
with the suitors.’ 

Ulysses smiled and spoke to him reassuringly. 4 F ear 
not,’ he said, 4 Telemachus has saved thy life, that thou 
mayest know for thyself, and tell the same to others, 
how that it is far more profitable to do well than to do 
evil. Gro, thou and Phemius, into the court-yard and 
remain there.’ They did not wait for a second bidding, 
but went at once to the altar of Zeus that stood in the 
court-yard, and seated themselves upon the steps, that 
they might be in safety should Ulysses in his fury be 
tempted to forget the promise he had made to them. 

Ulysses looked into all the corners to see if any of 
the suitors had hidden themselves away, but he found 
no one — all were by this time lying dead upon the 
floor. He. now told his son to knock at the barred 
doors of the women’s chambers, and call in the aged 
Eurycleia. When she entered the hall and saw Ulysses 
standing among the corpses, covered with blood, she 
was about to cry aloud for joy, but Ulysses stopped her, 
saying, 4 Rejoice in silence, mother, for hateful to the 
gods is loud exultation in the presence of death. This 
is the punishment with which the gods have requited 
the suitors for their wickedness. They had regard for 
none, neither for good men nor for bad, and therefore 
have they come to a shameful end.’ 


218 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


He then asked her which of the women had been 
faithless and had taken the part of the suitors, and she 
answered, 4 In thy house there are fifty maidens ; the 
greater number of them have honoured thy wife and 
myself, but twelve have allied themselves to the suitors, 
choosing rather to share in their life of pleasure than 
to fulfil their tasks obediently.’ 

Ulysses bade her send the twelve faithless maidens 
into the hall. They had already been dismayed by 
the sounds of tumult and groaning, and guessed in. 
part what was going on ; but when they came into the 
hall and saw their friends lying dead in pools of blood, 
it was far more horrible than they had imagined, and 
they broke out into bitter weeping and lamentation. 

They were not allowed, however, to give way to 
their grief, but were obliged to help Telemachus and 
the two herdsmen to carry the corpses out into the 
court-yard. One upon another the bodies of the suitors 
were piled in heaps, but their souls were conducted 
through the air by Hermes to the Land of the Dead. 

The faithless maidens had then to take damp 
sponges and cleanse the tables and chairs from the 
stains of blood, and to scrape the floor with spades. 
When this was accomplished, Telemachus and the two 
herdsmen drove them into a corner of the court-yard, 
and hanged them all with one long rope. Thus they 
were punished for their evil deeds, and Melanthius also 
was brought down from the upper chamber, and put to 
death. 

After this, the men washed their hands and feet, 
and returned to the hall. Ulysses told them to kindle 
afire upon the hearth and bring some sulphur to purify 


THE DESTRUCTION OF THE SUITORS. 219 

the air, for the house was defiled by the spilling of 
blood and unfit for gods or men to inhabit, and it re- 
quired to be purified with burning sulphur. 

He then desired that the other women, who had 
been faithful, should be sent for ; and as they entered 
the hall, one by one, they greeted him with the utmost 

i°y* 

10 * 


220 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


CHAPTER LT. 

EURYCLEIA CARRIES THE GOOD NEWS TO PENELOPE. 

All this time, Penelope was lying in her chamber, 
wrapped in a deep slumber which had been shed upon 
her by the gods. Eurycleia was now commissioned to 
awaken her, and she hastened upstairs, stumbling more 
than once in her eagerness to tell the good news. 

She ran to the queen’s bedside, and called to her, 
‘ Wake up, Penelope, dear child, and see for thyself 
the fulfilment of thy heart’s desire. Ulysses is here, 
and has overcome the proud suitors.’ 

Penelope opened her eyes and looked at her in 
astonishment. 6 Thou art beside thyself,’ she answered. 
‘ Why dost thou mock my bitten sorrow ? Better hadst 
thou let me sleep on, for sweeter slumber I have never 
enjoyed since the day that Ulysses left me. If it had 
been any other than thou, I would have rebuked her 
severely for this ill-timed mirth, but thou art protected 
by thine age.’ 

4 1 mock thee not, dear child,’ answered Eurycleia. 
4 Ulysses is here without a doubt ; he is the stranger 
whom everyone scorned. Telemachus knew r this long 
ago, but he kept it secret.’ 

At these words Penelope sprang up and put her 
arms round the neck of the old nurse, shedding tears 


EURYCLEIA CARRIES THE NEWS TO PENELOPE. 221 

of joy. But soon she began to doubt, and said, 4 But 
even if it is true that he has come back, how could he 
alone get the better of all the suitors ? ’ 

Eurycleia answered, 4 1 saw nothing, but I heard the 
groans of the dying. We women sat together in a corner 
at the back of the house, in great fear and anxiety. 
The doors leading to the hall were barred until Tele- 
machus called me ; then I went in, and found Ulysses 
standing amidst the corpses with a joyous countenance. 
Now they are all lying in the court-yard, and Ulysses 
is burning brimstone to purify the house. Come down 
and rejoice after thy long sorrow, for Ulysses is indeed 
at home again ; he has made himself knowm to thy son, 
and has punished the wicked suitors.’ 

But Penelope was not yet satisfied, and she said, 
4 Dear mother, do not rejoice too hastily. Thou know- 
est well, that though the return of Ulysses would give 
joy to all, yet to none could it bring such happiness as to 
myself and my son. But it cannot be as thou sayest. 
Some god must, in his wrath, have come to punish the 
suitors for their insolence, but my dear husband has 
not been permitted to return to his home. He has 
died in misery in some far land.’ 

Eurycleia could not understand her mistress, and 
was vexed with her for doubting the good news. 4 What 
is this that thou sayest ? ’ she cried impatiently. 4 Thy 
husband is sitting below beside the hearth, and thou 
art unable to believe that he is here ! By a sure token 
I know him, as I will tell thee, — even by the scar of 
the wound that he received in the boar hunt. I saw 
it when I washed his feet, and wanted to tell thee, but 
he would not have it so. Come down, and if 1 am 


222 THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 

deceiving thee, thou mayest put me to death with 
torments.’ 

4 Mother,’ replied Penelope, 4 thou knowest not the 
ways of the Immortals, • But let us go down to my 
son. I will see the slaughtered suitors and him who 
has slain them.’ 


CHAPTER LII. 


ULYSSES AND PENELOPE. 

Penelope went down to the hall, and seated herself 
near the hearth. Ulysses was sitting by the wall 
opposite, leaning against the pillar, and waiting, with 
his eyes cast on the ground, until she should speak to 
him. But she remained silent, turning these things 
over and over in her mind; now it seemed as if it must 
be Ulysses himself who was sitting there so near her, 
and then again it seemed as if it could not be. 

All had expected to see Penelope beside herself 
with rapture, opening her arms to her husband and 
embracing him with tears of joy ; but instead of this, 
she preserved an unbroken silence, and continued to 
sit apart in the hall, as if she had no concern with the 
stranger. Above all, Telemachus was troubled and 
astonished, and he said to her indignantly, 4 Mother, 
why dost thou remain at such a distance from my 
father, vouchsafing to him not one single word ? No 
other woman in the world would behave in such a 
manner if her husband had returned to her after twenty 
years, when she had given up all hope of ever seeing 
him again. Thou must carry a stone in thy breast 
rather than a heart ! ’ 


224 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


4 If he is indeed Ulysses,’ replied Penelope, 4 we 
shall soon understand one another. There are tokens 
which are known to none but us two.’ 

At these words, Ulysses turned to his son with a 
smile, and said , 4 Let her make trial of me ; she will 
then be convinced of the truth. Perhaps she despises 
me now, on account of these ragged garments which 
are covered with dust. But we must not neglect to 
take thought for our safety ; for the danger which 
threatens us is great. He who slays a single man, 
even a poor man and one that has but few friends, 
must leave his home and his family in order to escape 
from vengeance. But we have killed the flow'er and 
pride of the city, the most distinguished young men 
in the state. We must take care that the news of 
what we have done is kept from coming to the ears of 
the people until we have had time to leave the city. 
Let us, then, deceive the citizens. Put thou on thy 
festal robes, and let the maidens deck themselves as 
if for a feast ; bid Phemius also bring his lyre, and let 
us have playing, and singing and dancing, that the 
citizens may hear it, and think that a wedding is being 
celebrated in the house.’ 

The instructions of Ulysses were carried out, and 
many of the citizens who passed the house that even- 
ing, said to themselves, 4 This then is the marriage 
of the queen. At last she has become faithless to 
Ulysses, and has made up her mind to wait for him no 
longer.’ 

Meanwhile Ulysses had caused himself to be bathed 
and anointed, and had dressed himself in princely 
garments ; and Athene restored to him the full beauty 


ULYSSES AND PENELOPE. 


225 


and stateliness of appearance which he had possessed 
before she turned him into a beggar. After this he 
again seated himself opposite to his wife, and said to 
her, 4 Thou hast a heart of stone, above all other 
women. Now, mother,’ he added, turning to Eurycleia, 
4 do thou prepare my bed for me, that I may rest. Her 
heart is as hard as iron.’* 

4 Remove his bed,’ said Penelope , 4 outside the sleep- 
ing chamber, and spread soft coverings over it.’ 

She looked hard at the stranger as she spoke, for 
this was the test by which she intended to prove whether 
he was indeed her beloved Ulysses or not. If he had 
let her words pass without perceiving that there was 
anything strange in what she said, she would have been 
convinced that it was not her husband, but some other, 
whom the gods had permitted to take his form and 
overcome the suitors, in order to deceive her. 

But Ulysses replied with indignation, 4 How can 
they remove the bed ? Only a god to whom all things 
are possible could accomplish that feat, — the strong- 
est man would inevitably fail. For, in the place now 
occupied by the sleeping chamber, there once stood 
a mighty olive-tree w T ith a trunk as thick as a pillar. 
Round this tree I built the stone walls of the chamber, 
and when I had made an end of enclosing it, I cut 
down the trunk to the height of a bed-post, and 
fashioned to it the remaining part of the bed ; I 
adorned it also with gold and silver and ivory. It 
cannot be, — I will not admit that is possible — that the 
bed has been sawn away from the trunk and removed 
to some other place.’ 

Penelope was unable to restrain her emotion, or 


226 


THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 


remain quietly in her place, when she heard the stranger 
speak with such full knowledge of the secrets of Ulysses. 
She was now sure, beyond a doubt, that it was indeed 
her long-lost husband who had returned to her, and the 
tears streamed from her eyes as she ran towards him 
and twined her arms round his neck, kissing him over 
and over again. 6 Now I am certain of thee,’ she cried, 
as soon as she was able to speak, ‘ for thou hast told me 
the secret of our bed, which is known to no other but 
to us two and to the old servant who came hither with 
me from my father’s house.’ 

There was no longer any check to the rejoicings of 
the whole household, and great indeed was their joy. 
That morning’s sun had dawned upon a household op- 
pressed with care and sorrow that seemed well-nigh 
hopeless, but a few short hours had changed their grief 
into gladness and exultation. 


CHAPTER LTIT. 


ULYSSES AND LAERTES. 

The next morning, Ulysses rose early from his couch, 
and awoke Telemachus and the two herdsmen ; and 
when they had all provided themselves with arms, they 
left the city. As they went through the streets they 
met many of the townspeople, but they were not per- 
ceived by them, for Athene had covered them with a 
cloud. 

They were soon on the road leading towards the 
house in the country where the aged Laertes was now 
living ; for Ulysses had a great longing to see his father 
again, and he wished also to avoid the first outbreak 
of fury, when the citizens should become aware of the 
slaughter of the suitors. When they reached the 
place, he desired the others to go forward towards 
the house, but he himself stayed behind to seek out 
his father, whom he expected to find in the garden. 

Since the aged Laertes had been driven by his grief 
for his lost son to leave the city, he had taken up his 
abode in a mean little house with a small piece of 
ground attached to it. Instead of living as formerly in 
kingly state, his condition was now that of a poor slave. 
From morning till night he toiled at hard work, and 


228 THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 

refused all the luxuries to which he had been accus- 
tomed in happier days. An old steward, Dolius by 
name, lived in the homestead with his six sons ; and 
his aged wife waited upon the grey-haired king. 
Gladly would she have tried to make life pleasant to 
him, but Laertes would only accept the most indispen- 
sable services ; — a miserable bed, poor fare and dirty 
clothing, such was the mode of life on which he 
insisted. 

Ulysses went into the garden, for he knew that this 
was where his father was accustomed to spend his days, 
in hard work. Soon he found the unhappy old man, 
digging as usual about the roots of the vines. The 
poorest slave could not have been dressed in more 
wretched clothes ; they were of the coarsest material, 
and soiled with mud and dust. Below the knees he 
wore leggings of ox-hide, and on his hands rough gloves, 
as a protection against the briers. A goat-skin cap 
covered his head, and shielded it from the hot sun. 

Ulysses remained for some time standing by a pear- 
tree, and as he gazed upon the forlorn appearance of 
his aged father, the sight drew tears from his eyes. 
Then he advanced towards him, making a little noise 
to attract his attention. The old man was stooping 
over his work with bent head, but now he raised himself 
and looked at the stranger. 

4 Of a truth, old man,’ began Ulysses, 4 thou art 
no novice in the art of tending a garden. Everything 
that grows here, shrubs, trees and vines, all alike bear 
witness to thy skill and diligence. But I am surprised 
that thou art not thyself better cared for; thou art 
lean and shrunken from want of good food, and thou 


ULYSSES AND LAERTES. 


229 


wearest filthy clothing. It cannot be that thy master 
is dissatisfied with thy work and pays thee badly, — 
moreover thou hast not the appearance of a man bom 
to be a bondsman. In form and stature thou art rather 
like to a king, and it were more fitting that in thine 
old age thou shouldst have a comfortable bath, a good 
meal and a soft bed whereon to rest. Whose servant 
art thou, and whose is this garden ? And tell me once 
again that which I desire to know. On my way hither 
I met with a man of whom I enquired, but he was in 
haste, and his information was not clear. I was in hope 
that here in Ithaca I should meet with a former friend ; 
tell me, I pray thee, whether he yet lives, or has already 
descended to the Land of Shades. I entertained him 
once in my house, and never have I received a guest 
whom I have loved so well. He told me that he was 
the son of Laertes, and that his home was in Ithaca. 
Of the esteem with which I regarded him I gave abun- 
dant proof at his departure, for I sent him away laden 
with many goodly gifts.’ 

Tears filled the eyes of the old father as he replied, 
‘ Alas ! he is no longer here, and his place has been 
usurped by wicked men. In vain wilt thou hope for 
any return for thy gifts ; for my son, the friend to 
whom thou hast shown hospitality, is gone for ever. 
Far away from his home and his friends, his corpse has 
without doubt been long ago devoured by the fishes of 
the sea, or else he has been slain on dry land and has 
been food for vultures and wild beasts. We, his 
parents, alas ! have not been permitted to prepare his 
body for burial, neither might his wife Penelope close 
his eyes, nor lift up her lament beside his bier. But 


230 


THE WANDERINGS OE ULYSSES. 


tell me thy name, and from whence thou art come, and 
how long a time has passed since my son was with thee 
as thy guest.’ 

4 I come from Alybas,’ replied Ulysses. 4 My father 
is the son of Polypemon and my own name is Eperi- 
tus. I am now on my way to Sicania, but contrary 
winds have driven me hither. If thou wouldst know 
when I entertained thy son, it is now the fifth year 
since he left me to return to his home. At his de- 
parture, favourable omens presented themselves, at 
which we both rejoiced, and we hoped that we should 
often again meet at the friendly board, and exchange 
gifts one with the other.’ 

Grief overshadowed Laertes like a black cloud, as 
he was thus vividly reminded of the absence of his son, 
and he groaned aloud, and cast dust upon his head. At 
this spectacle Ulysses could dissemble no longer, and 
bursting into tears, he threw his arms round his father 
and embraced him, crying out, 4 Father, it is I, the son 
for whom thou art sorrowing, who, in the twentieth 
year, have returned to my home. Cease therefore from 
weeping and lamentation ; we must prepare for battle, 
for I have avenged the honour of our house, and have 
slain the suitors.’ . 

But Laertes feared it might be some impostor, and 
he said, 6 If thou art indeed my son, give me some 
token by which I may know thee.’ 

4 Willingly,’ replied Ulysses, 4 and first I will show 
thee the scar of the wound which was long ago dealt 
me by the boar on Mount Parnassus, when I was sent 
by thyself and my mother on a visit to my grandfather 
Autolycus, that I might receive the present he promised 


ULYSSES AND LAEKTES. 


231 


me when he came to see us here in Ithaca. I will 
moreover recall to thy remembrance how once, when I 
was a child, I walked with thee, holding thy hand, 
through this very garden, and, child-like, begged for 
many things. Then didst thou give me for my own, 
thirteen pear-trees and ten apple-trees ; forty fig-trees 
also, and forty rows of vines. 5 

By this time Laertes was quite convinced that it 
was indeed his dearly loved son Ulysses who now stood 
before him, and it seemed to him that his life had be- 
come suddenly illumined with golden rays of joy and 
hope. But the surprise was too much for the old man • 
his strength gave way, and he would have fallen to the 
ground, had not Ulysses caught him in his arms and 
supported him until he regained consciousness. Then 
the aged king raised his hands to heaven, and cried 
aloud, ‘0 Father Zeus, I see indeed by this punishment 
of the suitors that thou reignest supreme in heaven 
and earth ! But I fear, my son,’ he continued, turning 
to Ulysses, 4 that the kinsmen of those whom thou hast 
slain will soon seek thee out here and lay hands upon 
thee.’ 

4 Fear nothing,’ replied Ulysses, 4 for we may reckon 
upon the assistance of the gods themselves. Let us 
now go into the house. Our friends have already pre- 
ceded us thither, and are preparing the morning meal.’ 

Arm in arm they went towards the house, and there 
found Telemachus and the two herdsmen, who were 
looking out for them, having set all things in readiness 
for the feast. Laertes now consented to be bathed and 
anointed by the old woman, and to put on a princely 
garment ; and presently he came forth from the bath, 


232 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


looking another man, for Athene had restored to him 
all the strength and vigour of his early days before 
the long years of sorrow that had broken his heart. 
All were full of admiration at his changed appearance, 
and he himself, rejoicing in the renewal of his powers, 
felt the desire for battle kindle within him as he 
thought of the heroic deeds of his youth. 6 0 son ! * 
he said, 4 were I but still possessed of my former 
strength, as in the days when I took by assault the 
town of Nericus on the mainland ! How gladly would 
I have stood yesterday by thy side to smite down the 
suitors and rejoice thy heart/ 

The steward Dolius and his six sons were at their 
work in the fields, but when they heard from the old 
woman of the unexpected guests who had arrived, they 
hastened back to the house, and greeted their beloved 
master with eager joy. Then they all sat down to eat 
and drink together. 


CHAPTER LIV. 


THE FINAL STRUGGLE. 

Ulysses had not long left the city when the news of 
the previous night’s disaster began to be rumoured 
abroad, — first as a mere report, but soon followed by 
more certain information. In many houses, the tidings 
aroused both rage and sorrow ; and with sighs and groans 
the kinsmen of those who had been slain betook them- 
selves to the palace, and demanded the corpses of their 
friends. The bodies of those who had come from the 
mainland, or from the neighbouring islands, were also 
Garried away over the sea to their homes. 

Then the friends of the suitors assembled in the 
market-place, and one of them, Eupeithes, the father of 
Antinoiis, rose and addressed the citizens : 4 Of a truth,’ 
he said, 4 there is no one who has brought such 
grievous calamity upon us as this Ulysses. First he 
carried away in his ships all the flower of our city, the 
most distinguished young men of Ithaca ; countless 
were the youths of noble birth who followed him to 
the war. Where are now those ships ? and where are 
their crews ? The ships have been destroyed, and the 
crews have perished. And now he has deprived all 
our most illustrious families of their last hope, in that 


234 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


he has slain their sons. Let us go out at once against 
him, before he has time to flee away to Pylos or to Elis, 
for we should be disgraced for ever if we allowed him to 
escape our vengeance. I, for one, would care to live no 
longer, but would rather be reckoned among the dead.’ 

Thus he spoke, but after him rose Medon, the 
herald, who said, ‘ Listen to me, ye citizens. Not 
without the help of the gods has Ulysses accomplished 
this marvellous deed. With my own eyes I saw how a 
god came, in the form of Mentor, and stood at his side, 
inspiring him with courage, while the suitors were at 
the same moment filled with fear. 

When they heard this, many of the kinsmen began 
to hesitate about risking their lives against a man who 
was thus manifestly befriended by the gods. And now 
another of the friends of Ulysses, the aged Halitherses, 
arose, and said, ‘Listen to me, also. For this calamity 
w T hich has befallen you, my friends, ye have but your- 
selves to blame. Neither to me nor to Mentor would 
ye listen, when we appealed to you to put an end to the 
ill-doing of your sons. And, in truth, an evil course was 
theirs who consumed the goods of Ulysses, and perse- 
cuted his wife. Now at least follow my counsel, and 
remain here quietly, that ye draw not down upon your 
heads yet further misfortune.’ 

These words produced a deep impression, and the 
greater part of the assembly dispersed, and returned 
each to his own home. A considerable number, how- 
ever, followed Eupeithes, and having armed themselves, 
rushed tumultuously out of the city, towards the home- 
stead where they expected to find Ulysses. 

Ulysses had meanwhile strengthened himself with 


THE FINAL STRUGGLE. 


235 


food and wine, and had bidden his friends to do like- 
wise. He was well aware that, in all probability, his 
enemies would soon pursue him ; and when the meal was 
ended, he sent one of the sons of Dolius to go and look 
if they were coming. Hardly had the youth crossed 
the threshold when he perceived in the distance a 
great cloud of dust that announced the approach of 
the enemy, and he hurried back to tell his master. 

All seized their arms without delay, even Laertes 
and Dolius, though both were old and grey-headed ; 
and issued forth from the house. At this moment a 
powerful ally approached, even Mentor ; but Ulysses 
knew in his heart that it was a still more powerful 
friend, — Athene herself, his divine protector, — who 
had again come to his aid. Joy filled his soul and 
beamed from his eyes, as, turning towards Telemachus, 
he said, 4 I trust, my son, that to-day thou wilt not fail 
to maintain the honour of our house, for the men of 
our race have ever been distinguished above other men 
for strength and courage.’ 

4 Thou wilt see, dear father,’ replied Telemachus, 
with sparkling eyes, 4 whether I am likely to prove a 
disgrace to my family.’ 

4 0 ye gods!’ exclaimed Laertes, full of joy and 
pride at hearing the exhortation and the reply, 4 what 
a happy day is this for which ye have spared my life, 
when I see my son and my grandson stimulating one 
another to deeds of valour ! ’ 

By this time the enemy had advanced within reach, 
and Mentor, who was near Laertes, went up to him, 
and said, 4 Make thy prayer to Zeus and to Athene, and 
then hurl thy spear among thy foes.’ 

11 


236 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


At the same moment, Laertes felt himself filled with 
redoubled strength, and in obedience to the command 
of Mentor, he hurled his spear, which struck Eupeithes, 
the leader of the opposing band. The point of the 
spear penetrated his helmet, wounding him in the head, 
and he fell to the ground, smitten to death. Then 
Ulysses and Telemachus drew their swords and threw 
themselves upon the enemy, while far above the din of 
battle was heard the voice of Athene, who cried aloud, 
‘ Ye men of Ithaca, forbear to continue the strife, and 
turn your minds towards peace.’ 

The terrible voice filled the enemy with fear ; they 
threw down their arms in terror as they betook them- 
selves to flight, and Ulysses, unable to control his war- 
like impulses, rushed after them with raised sword. 
But at this moment a thunderbolt sped from the un- 
clouded sky and fell to the ground, at the feet of 
Athene. The goddess knew the token, and she said 
to Ulysses, ‘ Cease from the battle, or thou wilt have 
to fear the wrath of Zeus.’ 

Ulysses obeyed, and Athene disposed the minds 
of the citizens towards peace, so that they willingly 
promised that, for the future, they would be content to 
live in harmony and friendship with Ulysses and all his 
house. 


INDEX 


ACH 

A CHI LLES. (See ‘ The Trojan 

■ ZIL War.’) Meets Ulysses in 
the Lower World, 42. 

JEgfsthus. The murderer of Aga- 
memnon, 41, 80, and 97. Is 
slain by Orestes, 82. 

JEOlus. The King of the Winds, 
19. Helps Ulysses on his 
way, but declines to»do so a 
second time, 19-21. 

AgamEmnon. Leader of the 
army against Troy, 1 and 8. 
Meets Ulysses in the Lower 
World, and relates how le 
was murdered by his wife and 
./Egisthus, 41 and 42. Nestor 
tells the same story to Tele- 
machus, 80-82 ; as does also 
Menelaiis, 97. 

AgelAhs . One of the suitors, 215. 

Ajax , (The Greater) Will not 
speak to Ulysses in the Lower 
World, 43 and 44. (See ‘ The 
Trojan War.’) 

Ajax. (The Lesser) Killed on 
his way home from Troj r , 96. 

Ale Inoks. King of the Phcacians, 
and father of Nausicaa, 112. 
Ulysses arrives at his beautiful 
palace, and is kindly received, 
117-120. Alcinoiis entertains 
him with feasting and games, 
121-132 ; and sends him to 
his home, 133 and 134. 

A mphLwmvs. One of the suitors. 
Advises against the murder 
of Telemacbus, 164 and 201. 
Is warned by Ulysses of his 


ATH 

approaching doom, 178. The 
death of Amphinomus, 211. 

Antlloclins. Son of Nestor; slain 
before Troy, 80. Pisistratus 
mourns for him, 91. 

A nt Inn iis. One of the suitors, 7 1 . 
Enters into a conspiracy to kill 
Telemachus, 98 and 99. Re- 
turns in disappointment, 163. 
Is reproached by Penelope, 164. 
Insults Ulysses, 171 to 173. In- 
cites the beggar Irus to fight 
Ulysses, 176-178. Again in- 
suits Ulysses, 206. He is slain 
by Ulysses, 209. 

A p Olio. God of the Bow. (See 
‘ Myths of Hellas.’) 173, 192, 
205, and 209. 

Arete, Wife of Alcinoiis, king of 
the Pheacians, and mother of 
Nausicaa, 112 and 118. She 
receives Ulysses kindly, 119 
and 120. 

ArethUsa. A spring in Ithaca, 
139 and 167. 

Argns. The faithful hound of 
Ulysses, 169 and 170. 

Artemis. The goddess of the 
chase. (See ‘ Myths of Hellas.’) 
40_and 114. 

Ath Ene. The goddess of wisdom. 
(See ‘Myths of Hellas.’) Pro- 
tector of Ulysses, 1 1 and 64. 
Appears to Telemachus in the 
form of Mentes, 65-68. Helps 
Telemachus to embark for 
Pylos, and accompanies him 
in the form of Mentor, 75-84, 


238 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


ATH 

Nestor offers a sacrifice to 
Athene, 85 and 86. Athene 
sends a Dream to comfort 
Penelope, 101 and 102. 
Obtains the release of Ulysses 
from the island of Calypso, 
103 and 104. Appears to him 
in the Land of the Pheacians, 
117; and calls attention to his 
marvellous throw, 124. Ap- 
pears to Ulysses in the form of 
a shepherd, 136 and 137 ; and 
changes him into a beggar, 1 39. 
Warns Telemachus to return 
from Sparta, 151. Bids Ulysses 
make himself known to his 
son, 160. Comforts Ulysses 
with the promise of divine 
help, 191. Appears to him in 
the form of Mentor, 214. Con- 
founds the suitors with her 
Aegis, 215. Again appears to 
Ulysses in the form of Mentor, 
235. 

Athens. Orestes takes refuge there 
after the murder of his father, 
82. w 

AutOlycus. The grandfather of 
Ulysses, 186. 


fJA ITT PS O. A nymph inhabit- 
ing the island of Ogygia. She 
detains Ulysses, 59 and 60, and 
97 ; but releases him at the com- 
mand of Zeus, 105 and 106. 

Char Itbdis, 47 and 48. Ulysses 
passes by in safety, 51. He 
again escapes with his life, 58. 

CicOnians , The. Ulysses and his 
men land and sack their city, 
2 ; but are afterwards re- 
pulsed with loss, 2 and 3. 

CimviErians, The. A people 
dwelling in perpetual gloom, 
on the borders of the Lower 
World, 35. 

Circe , The Enchantress. Changes 
the companions of Ulysses into 
swine, 26 and 27. Fails to 


EUM 

harm Ulysses, 30 ; and releases 
his friends, 31. Entertains 
them for a year, 32 and 33. 
Forewarns Ulysses of the 

t . dangers awaiting him, 46-4S. 

Crete. An island in the Mediter- 
ranean, 137, 144, and 183. 

Cteslppvs. One of the suitors. 
Throws an ox-foot at Ulysses, 
202. Is killed by Philoetius,215. 

CYclops, The. A race of one-eyed 
giants, 6. Ulysses in the cave 
of the Cyclops, 6-18. 

J)EM6dOCUS. The blind 
Pheacian singer, 122, 125, 
129 and 130. 

DodOna. An oracle dedicated to 
Zeus, 146 and 185. 

DOlius. The steward of Laertes, 
232. 

Dnllchium. A small island, close 
to Ithaca, 146 and 162. 

T ? CHETUS, The Torturer , 177 

_ and 206. 

Egypt. Menelaiis is driven 
thither by contrary winds, 81. 

EidOthea. A nymph, daughter 
of the sea-god, Proteus. She 
helps Menelaiil, 94 and 95. 

Elp Enor. One of the companions 
of Ulysses. Falls from the roof 
of the palace of Circe, 33 and 
34. Meets Ulysses in the 
Land of the Dead, 36. Ulysses 
buries his corpse, 46. 

Ethiopians , The. Offer a sacri- 
fice to Poseidon, 103. 

EmnTEus. The trusty swine- 
herd. Entertains Ulysses, sop 
posing him to be a beggar, 
140-165. Conducts him to 
the palace, 166-170. Tells 
Penelope about the stranger, 
173 and 174. Returns the 
next day to the palace with 
his swine, 193. Promises to 
take the part of Ulysses, 199 


INDEX. 


23y 


EUP 

Gives the bow to Ulysses, 207. 
Helps to punish Melanthius 
and the faithless maidens, 213 
and 218. 

EupElthes. The father of Anti- 
noiis, 233. Heads an army 
against Ulysses, 234. He is 
killed by the spear of Laertes, 
236. 

Eur Yalus. A Pheacian youth. 
He insults Ulysses, 123, but 
afterwards makes amends, 126. 

Eur Ybates. A favourite com- 
panion of Ulysses, 184. 

EuryclEla. The old nurse of 
Telemachus, 69. Provisions 
the ship for his journey, 75 
and 76. Comforts Penelope, 
100. Recognises Ulysses, 185- 
188. Bars the doors of the 
women’s chambers at the com- 
mand of Ulysses, 207. Re- 
joices at the destruction of the 
suitors, 217. Carries the good 
news to Penelope, 220. 

Eurflochus. One of the com- 
panions of Ulysses, 26. He 
escapes the magic of Circe, 26 
and 27. Gives cowardly advice 
to the rest, 32. Advises the 
slaughter of the cattle of 
Helios, 54. 

Ear Tmachvs. One of the suitors. 
Speaks roughly to Halitherses, 
73. Answers Penelope deceit- 
fully, 165. Insults the sooth- 
sayer, 203. Tries in vain to 
bend the bow, 205. Is slain 
by Ulysses, 210 and 211. 

TTALTTHERSES. An aged 
seer who predicts the return 
of Ulysses, 73. He remonstrates 
with the citizens, 234. 

HElen. Wife of Menelaiis. (See 
‘ The Trojan War.’) Recognises 
Telemachus, and entertains 
him kindly, 90-92. Dismisses 
him with words of encourage- 
ment, 152 and 153. 


MED 

H Elios. The sun-god. (See 

‘ Myths of Hellas.’) Punishes 
the companions of Ulysses for 
slaughtering his cattle, 52-57. 

HepliYEstus. The blacksmith 
god, 118. 

H Ernies. The messenger-god. 
Shows Ulysses how to protect 
himself from the magic of 
Circe, 29. Is sent to desire 
Calypso to release Ulysses, 
104 and 105. Conducts the 
souls of the suitors to the 
Lower World, 218. 

TDOMENEUS. A king of 

± Crete, 183. 

Itlmea. A small island in the 
Ionian Sea, the home of 
Ulysses, 1 . He reaches it 

_ after many sufferings, 136. 

Iris. A goddess, the messenger 

_ of Zeus, 175. 

# Irvs. A beggar of Ithaca. 
Fights with Ulysses, 175-177. 

T AERTES. The aged father 
of Ulysses, 39 and 155. 
Ulysses makes himself known 
to his father, 227-232. 

LaestryyOnians, The. A race of 
men-eating giants, who devour 
many of the companions of 
Ulysses, 21-23. 

Land of the Bead. Ulysses de- 
scends thither, 35-45. 

LeucOtliea. A sea-goddess. She 
helps Ulysses, 108. 

Libya. A country of Africa, 
145. 

LOtus-eaters , The. Are visited 
by Ulysses and his men, 3 and 
4. 

J^jEDON, The herald. Warns 
Penelope of conspiracies 
against Telemachus, 99 and 
100 ; and 161. Entreats Ulysses 
i to spare his life, 217. 


240 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


MEL 

MelAnthius, The goat-herd. In- 
sults Ulysses, 167 and 168. 
Brings his goats to the palace, 
193. Fetches weapons for the 
suitors, 212. The punishment 
of Melanthius, 213 and 218. 

MelAntho. One of the faithless 
maidens. She reviles Ulysses, 
179. _ 

MenelAiis. King of Sparta, 67. 
( See 4 The Trojan War.’) Re- 
turns home after long wander- 
ings, 81 and 82. Receives 
Telemachus, and tells him 
abouthis father, 84-97. Speeds 
the parting guest, 151-153. 

Mentes. A ruler among the 
Taphians. Athene takes his 
form, 66. 

Mentor. The friend of Ulysses, 
73. Athene takes his form, 
75 ; and having obtained a 
ship for Telemachus, accom- 
panies him on his journey, 76- 
84. Twice again Athene takes 
his form, and appears to en- 
courage Ulysses, 214 and 235. 


J\TA USl CA A . Daughter of 
V Alcinous, king of the Phea- 
cians. She succours Ulysses, 
112 to 120; and bids him re- 
member her, 1 28. 

NeoptOlemvs. The son of Achil- 
les, 42 and 43. (See ‘The 
Trojan War.’) He marries 
Hermione, the daughter of 
Menelaiis, 88. 

N Ericas. A fortified town, con- 
quered by Laertes, 232. 

Nestor. King of Pylos, 67. -(See 
4 The Trojan War.’) Entertains 
Telemachus, 78-86. Makes a 
sacrifice to Poseidon, 78-83 ; 
and to Athene, 85 and 86. 

NoEmon. Lends a ship for the 
journey of Telemachus, 76. 
Goes to the suitors to enquire 
wjien he will return, 98. 


PHE 

QCEANUS. The great stream 
that flows round the world, 35. 

OgYgia. The island of Calypso, 
'59. 

OlYmpus , Mount. The abode of 
the gods, 38, 47, 56, 103. 

OrEstes. The son of Agamem- 
non. Kills ASgistfius, the 
murderer of his father, 82. 


pARNASSUS , Mount. Ulysses 
goes thither on a boar-hunt, 
186 ^ 

PatrOclus. The friend of Achil- 
les, 42 and 80. ( See 4 The 

Trojan War.’) 

P Elens. The father of Achilles, 
42. w (See 4 The Trojan War.’) 

Pen Elope. The wife of Ulysses, 
1. YVaits in vain for the re- 
turn of her husband, 61. In- 
vents a device for keeping off 
the suitors, 62. Upbraids Phe- 
mius, 68. Is warned by Medon 
of the conspiracy against Tele- 
machus, 99 and 100. Athene 
sends a Dream to comfort her, 
101 and 102. She remonstrates 
with the suitors, 164. En- 
quires concerning the beggar, 
173. Converses with Ulysses, 
balieving him to be a stranger, 
183-190. Brings down the 
bow of Ulysses, 1 95 and 1 96. 
Refuses to believe that it is 
her husband who has slain the 
suitors, 220-222. At last re- 
cognises Ulysses, 223-226. 

PersEphone. Queen of the Lower 
W orld, 40 and 45. (See 4 M vths 
of Hellas.’) 

Pharos. An island off the coast 
of Egypt, famous in later days 
for its light-house. Menelaiis 
lands there, 93. 

Phe.Acians , The Land of the. 
Reached by Ulysses after his 
second shipwreck, 112. The 
Pheacian games, 121-127. The 


INDEX. 


241 


THE 

Pheacians convey Ulysses to 
Ithaca, 133 ; and are punished 
by Poseidon, 134. 

PhEmius. The aged singer, 66 
and 68. Entreats Ulysses to 
spare his life, 216. 

Phenleians , The. A mercantile 
people, 137, 145, 155. 

Phil(Etius. The faithful goat- 
herd. Arrives at the palace, 
193 and 194. Promises to take 
the part of Ulysses, 199. Bars 
the door of the court-yard irt 
obedience to his instructions, 
207. Helps to punish Melan- 
thius and the faithless maidens, 
213 and 218. Kills Ctesippus, 
215. 

Phorcys. A haven of Ithaca, 
133. 

Plslstratus. Son of Nestor, 79. 
Accompanies Telemaehus to 
Sparta, 86-92. Returns thence, 
151-153. . 

Polyph Ennis. One of the Cyclops, 
6. The escape of Ulj r sses from 
Polyphemus, 6-18. 

PosEIdon. God of the sea, 9. 
The father of Polyphemus, 
who prays to him for revenge, 
13 and 17. Tiresias instructs 
Ulysses how to turn away his 
wrath, 37 and 38. The sacri- 
fice at Pylos to Poseidon, 78- 
83. Poseidon causes the death 
of Ajax the Lesser, 96. Is 
present at a sacrifice offered 
by the Ethiopians, 103. Re- 
turning from thence, he de- 
stroys the ship of Ulysses, 
107-109. Punishes the Phea- 
cians for conveying Ulysses 
to Ithaca, 134. 

PrOtevs. A sea-god. Is com- 
pelled by Menelaiis to give 
him news of his friends, 94- 
97. 

Pflos. The country of Nestor, 
67. Visited by Telemaehus, 
78-86. 


THR 

CfA il/ OS. A small island, close 

^ to Ithaca, 99 and 162. 

Sctlla. A six-armed monster, 
47. Ulysses escapes her, 51. 

Sirens , Tlie , 46. Ulysses es- 
capes them, 48 and 49. 

Sisyphus. Punished in the Lower 
YVorld, 44. ( See ‘ Myths of 

Hellas.’) 

Sparta. The country of King 
Menelaiis, 67. Telemaehus 
arrives at the palace, 88. 

Styx , The. One of the rivers of 
the Lower World. Calypso 
swears by it, 106. (See* Myths 
of Hellas.’) 

Syria , The island of. The home 
of Eumaeus, 155. 


'VANTALUS. Punished in the 
Lower World, 44. (See 
‘Myths of Hellas.’) 

TAphians. A people inhabiting 
some small islands in the 
Ionian Sea, 66. 

TelEmachvs. The son of Ulysses 
and Penelope, 1. Grows up 
to manhood during his father’s 
absence, 61 and 63. Athene 
appears to him in the form of 
Mentes, 64-68. Telemaehus 
assembles the citizens, 70-74. 
Goes to Pylos and Sparta to 
enquire for his father, 75-97. 
Returns from Sparta, 151-153. 
Escapes the suitors, 158. 
Meets his father in the hut of 
Eumaeus, 158 to 162. Returns 
to the palace and tells his 
mother what he has heard 
from Menelaiis, 166. Helps 
Ulysses to remove the arms 
from the hall, 181 and 182. 
Prepares the hall for the trial 
of the bow, 197. Kills Me- 
lanthius and the faithless 
maidens, 218. 

Tliresp Otians , The. Mentioned 
by Ulysses in his feigned 


242 


THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES. 


THE 

stories to Ulysses and Pene- 
lope, 145 and 184. 

ThrinAcia , The island of. The 
pasture of the flocks of the 
sun-god, 38. Ulysses and his 
men are detained there, 52- 
56; 

TirEsias. The wise seer. ( See 
‘ Myths of Hellas.’) Ulysses 
goes to the Land ot' the Dead 
in order to consult him, 33 
and 37-39. 

Tltyns , The Giant. Punished in 
the Lower World, 44. 


TTLYSSES. Son of Laerles 
and King of Ithaca. Sets 
out from Troy, 1. Reaches 
the land of the Ciconians, 2 ; 
and of the Lotus-eaters, 3. 
His escape from the Cyclops 
Polyphemus, 5-18. He comes 
to the island of iEolus, 19 ; 
and to the land of the Laes- 
trygonians, 2 1 . Spends a year 
in the island of Circe, 24-33. 
Descends to the Land of the 
Dead, 35-45. Escapes the 
Sirens, 46-49 ; also Scylla and 
Chary bdis, 50 and 51. Ulysses 
in the island of Thrinacia, 52- 
56. He survives his companions 
and reaches the island of Ogy- 
gia, 58 and 59, where he is 
detained by Calypso, 60 and 
97. Menelaiis and Helen re- 
late instances of the sagacity 
of Ulysses, 91 and 92. The 
voyage of Ulysses from Ogygia 
to the land of the Pheacians, 
105-111. He is succoured by 
Nausicaa, 112-116 ; and enter- 
tained by King Alcinous, 117- 
133. Ulysses takes part in the 
Pheacian games, 123-127. Is 
conveyed to Ithaca by the 
Pheacians, 133 and 134. Is 


ZEU 

met by Athene, who changes 
him into a beggar, and bids 
him go to the swine-herd 
Eumaeus, 136-139. Ulysses 
in the hut of the swine-herd, 
140-165. The meeting of 
Ulysses and Telemachus, 161. 
Ulysses goes to the palace, 
167-170 ; and is recognised by 
his faithful dog, 169. He begs 
at the table of the suitors, 
171-180. Ulysses and Tele- 
machus remove the arms from 
the hall, 181 and 182. Ulysses 
converses with Penelope, tell- 
ing her a feigned story, 183- 
190. He is recognised by 
Eurycleia, 188. The boar-hunt 
on Mount Parnassus, 186 and 
187. Ulysses is comforted by 
a token from Zeus, 192. Se- 
cures the help of the two 
herdsmen, 199. Makes trial of 
the bow, 207 and 208. Slays 
the suitors, 209-219. Makes 
Limself known to Penelope, 223 
-226. The meeting of Ulysses 
and Laertes, 227-232. Ulysses 
overcomes the friends of the 
suitors, and is reconciled to the 
citizens, 234-236. 

T/T/yl ND BEING ROCKS , The, 
47. Ulysses escapes them. 
50. 

G? A CY NTIIUS. A small island 
close to Ithaca, 162. 

Be vs. The king of the gods. 
(See * Myths of Hellas.’) The 
protector of strangers, 8, 115 
and 141. Avenges the slaughter 
of the cattle of Helios, 56 and 
57. Decrees the release of 
Ulysses from the island of 
Calypso, 103 and 104. Sends 
a token to encourage Ulysses, 
192. 


“ Unprecedented in the history of the world.” 

— London Times. 

STANLEY’S CONGO, 

And the Founding of its Free State : a Story of Work and 
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the Dark Continent,” “ Coomassie and Magdala,” <fcc. Ded- 
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2 vols., pp. 1130. 8 vo, Ornamental Cloth, $10 00. 

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heard of. — St. James's Gazette , London. 

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OLD MEXICO AND HER LOST PROVINCES. 


A Journey in Mexico, Southern California, and Ari- 
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BOOTS AND SADDLES; 

Or, Life in Dakota with General Custer. By Mrs. Eliz- 
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AMERICAN POLITICAL IDEAS, 

Viewed from the Standpoint of Universal History. By John 
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truth, so attractive in substance, that its circulation is likely to 
be wide. Its appeal is as directly to the farmer or mechanic as 
to the philosophic student of politics or history. — AT. Y. Commercial 
Advertiser. 

There is not a line in the entire work which is not laden with 
the richest fruits of a trained and powerful intellect. — Commercial 
Bulletin , Bostou. 

When Mr. Fiske comes to discuss American history by the com- 
parative method, he enters a field of special and vital interest to 
all who have ever taken up this method of study. Our history ,'as 
tho author says, when viewed in this broad and yet impartial way, 
acquires a new dignity. There is no need to say that Mr. Fiske’s 
pages are worthy of the most careful study. — Brooklyn Union. 

From this point of view the consideration of the political ideas 
of this country becomes something more than a mere study of 
history; it constitutes a page of philosophy, a social study of tho 
most trauscendant importance. Such is the spirit with which 
Prof. Fiske handles his subject. He shows how our institutions 
have grown and developed from the past, how they have a firm 
basis in nature, and how they must develop in the future. The 
lectures are important reading; they are also pleasant reading, for 
the literary style of Prof. Fiske is exceptionally pure, clear, and 
graceful. — Boston Gazette. 

A volume of great interest, and illustrates very happily some of 
the fundamental ideas of American politics by setting forth their 
relations to the general history of mankind. * * * We heartily 
commend this little volume to such of our readers as desire to en- 
large their ideas and views of the political principles underlying the 
foundations of our system of government. — Christian at Work , N. Y. 


Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

IIabpkk & Buotueiis will send the, above work Up mail , postage prepaid , to any 
part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price. 


It surpasses all its predecessors . — N. Y. Tribune. 


STOIONTH'S ENGLISH DICTIONARY. 

A Dictionary of the English Language, Pronouncing, Etymological, 
and Explanatory, Embracing Scientific and Other Terms, Numer- 
ous Familiar Terms, and a Copious Selection of Old English 
Words. By the Rev. James Stormonth. The Pronunciation 
Carefully Revised by the Rev. P. H. Phelp, M.A. pp. 1248. 
4to, Cloth, $6 00 ; Half Roan, $7 00 ; Sheep, $7 50. 

Also in Harper’s Franklin Square Library, in Twenty- 
three Parts. 4to, Paper, 25 cents each Part. Muslin covers for 
binding supplied by the publishers on receipt of 50 cents. 

As regards thoroughness of etymological research and breadth of modern inclusion, 
Stormonth’s new dictionary surpasses all its predecessors. * * * In fact, Stormonth’s 
Dictionary possesses merits so many and conspicuous that it can hardly fail to estab- 
lish itself as a standard and a favorite. — N. Y. Tribune. 

This may serve in great measure the purposes of an English cyclopaedia. It gives 
lucid and succinct definitions of the technical terms in science and art, in law and 
medicine. We have the explanation of words and phrases that puzzle most people, 
showing wonderfully comprehensive and out of-the-way research. We need only add 
that the Dictionary appears in all its departments to have been brought down to meet 
the latest demands of the day, and that it is admirably printed. — Times, London. 

A most valuable addition to the library of the scholar and of the general reader. 
It can have for the present no possible rival. — Boston Post. 

It has the bones and sinews of the grand dictionary of the future. * * * An invalu- 
able library book. — Ecclesiastical Gazette, London. 

A work which is certainly without a rival, all things considered, among the dic- 
tionaries of our language. The peculiarity of the work is that it is equally well adapt- 
ed to the uses of the man of business, who demands compactness and ease of reference, 
and to those of the most exigent scholar. — N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. 

As compared with our standard dictionaries, it is better in type, richer in its vocab- 
ulary, and happier in arrangement. Its system of grouping is admirable. * * * He 
who possesses this dictionary will enjoy and use it, and its bulk is not so great as to 
make use of it a terror. — Christian Advocate , N. Y. 

A well-planned and carefully executed work, which has decided merits of its own, 
and for which there is a place not filled by any of its rivals. — N. Y. Sun. 

A work of sterling value. It has received from all quarters the highest commenda- 
tion. — Lutheran Observer. Philadelphia. 

A trustworthy, truly scholarly dictionary of our English language. — Christian Intel- 
ligencer, N. Y. 

The issue of Stormonth’s great English dictionary is meeting with a hearty wel- 
come everywhere. — Boston Transcript. 

A critical and accurate dictionary, the embodiment of good scholarship and the 
result of modern researches. Compression and clearness are its external evidences, 
and it offers a favorable comparison with the best dictionaries in use, while it holds an 
unrivalled place in bringing forth the result of modern philological criticism. — Boston 
Journal. 

Full, complete, and accurate, including all the latest words, and giving all their 
derivatives and correlatives. The definitions are short, but plain, the method of mak- 
ing pronunciation very simple, and the arrangement such as to give the best results 
in the smallest space. — Philadelphia Inquirer. 


Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

SSS" Qauprr & Brothebs will send the above work by mail, postage prepaid , to any 
part of the United States or Canada , on receipt of the price. 


HARPER'S MASAZINE FOR 1886. 


The December Number will begin the Seventy- second Volume of Harper’s Maga- 
zine. It is the purpose of the publishers to make the volumes for the new year of 
unprecedented interest and importance, and they have made arrangements which jus- 
tify confidence in the success of their undertaking. They respectfully invite public 
attention to some of the leading attractions of the forth-coming volumes. 

The two novels now in course of publication — Miss Woolson’s “ East Angels ” and 
Mr. Howells’s “Indian Summer” — easily take the foremost place in current serial 
fiction. These will run through several Numbers, and, upon their completion, will be 
followed by stories from Mrs. Dinah Mulock Craik, author of “John Halifax, Gentle- 
man,” and R. D. Blackmore, author of “ Lorna Doone. ” 

The great literary event of the year will be the publication of a series of papers — 
taking -the shape of a story, and depicting characteristic features of American Society 
—written by Charles Dudley Warner, and illustrated by C. S. Reinhart— the materi- 
als for which have been gathered by the author and artist during the past summer at 
the principal American pleasure resorts, North and South. 

Beginning in the January Number, a New Editorial Department, discussing topics 
suggested by current literature, will be contributed by Mr. W. D. Howells. 

' OTHER FEATURES, LITERARY AND ARTISTIC. 

Among ofher attractions for the year may be mentioned the continuation of the 
series of jpap^rs on “ Great American Industries ” and “ American Cities the contin- 
uation of Mw-fTlA. Abbey’s series of illustrations for “She Stoops to Conquer;” 
“ Sketches of* the Avon,” by Alfred Parsons; papers on “ The Navies of Europe,” by 
Sir Edward Reed, illustrated; curious studies of American Colonial History, by Colo- 
nel T. W. Higginson; sketches of “Pioneer Life” in Tennessee and Kentucky, by Ed- 
mund Kirke and Colonel John Mason Brown, illustrated ; more sketches of “ Frontiei 
Military Life,” by R. F/Zogbaum, with the author’s illustrations; illustrated papers on 
the “ Blue Grass Region ” ai^d “Cumberland Mountain Folk,” by James Lane Allen; 
“Southern Sketches,” by Rebecca Harding Davis; important “Social Studies,” by 
,J)e. Richard T. Ely; studies in Natural History, illustrated by Alfred Parsons, Will- 
iam Hamilton Gibson, and J. C. Beard; illustrated sketches of adventure connected 
with the hunting of “Large Game in America,” etc. 

While Harper’s Magazine has in England a larger circulation than any other peri- 
odical of its class, it will be the aim of its publishers and conductors not only to make 
it representative of what is best in American literature and art, but also — as indicated 
in the above announcements— to give especial attention to American subjects, selected 
With reference to their popular interest. 


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Address, HARPER & BROTHERS, Franklin Square, New York. 

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